Dandelion
by Firestar385
Summary: Life in Imladris Arc Glorfindel finally takes the twins on the orchunting trip he promised them on their majority. Of course, all does not go as planned and tensions with Lindir reach a climax. Now Complete, and the answer to why this is called 'Dandelion
1. Chapter One

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._

_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

_Note_: This is not the first story in this arc. It's probably not even the second or third. I have three other stories started and a long list of ideas for others, but this was the first one done and I didn't want to wait any longer to post it. However, this story should be able to stand alone. I have no beta, so any mistakes are my own.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer.

**Chapter One**

_He knew this was the ultimate end of his existence in Middle-earth. His last sight would be of flames. His last taste would be of tangy blood, the last thing he heard would be his own echoing screams, and his last smell would be that of sulfur and burning flesh. But he didn't feel any of the pain that should be associated with his other senses. All he could feel was an overwhelming sense of victory…_

Glorfindel jolted awake and it took a few deep breaths for him to realize he was in his bedroom in Imladris. No balrog threatened him or the people of his city. The warmth on his face came from the sun, already fully above the horizon, but not high enough to wake most of the inhabitants of the Last Homely House. He had not had that particular dream in many decades, but after centuries, it had lost none of its potency.

He slid out of bed and walked over to his balcony, looking forward to watching the sun complete its journey into the sky and savoring the last bit of peace before he would be dragged from his chambers. Years ago he had promised the twin sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, that he would take them on a long journey through the Misty Mountains as a Coming of Age present, but problems had arisen and it was not until this very morning that he would be able to fulfill his promise.

Their party was scheduled to set out around noon and Glorfindel knew that there were many preparations that still needed to be seen to. With a sigh, he turned his back on the sun so he could prepare for the day.

"I shall kill more orcs than you!" Elladan informed his twin, younger by merely minutes.

"Think what you want, but prepare to be disappointed," Elrohir shot back, rechecking his bow for the tenth time in half an hour. He was nervous about the trip, but that didn't take away from any of his excitement, either. "What are we still waiting for?"

"Erestor is still not content with the packing of the supplies," Elrond smiled, stepping up next to his youngest and removing the bow from his slim fingers. "Your bow seems to be in perfect condition, Elrohir." Elladan laughed as his brother flushed.

"_Ada_, do you not wish you were coming with us?" Elladan inquired.

"No, I am very content to remain here with the peace and quiet," Elrond replied. "I am sure you will have much more fun without me, anyway." He handed the bow back to Elrohir as Erestor, his chief counselor, approached.

"We are ready to depart now," he informed the family.

"Finally!" Elladan exclaimed. "Good-bye _Ada_!" He gave his father a quick kiss on the cheek and then practically skipped over to where their traveling party was gathering next to the three packhorses. Elrohir, slightly more demure, allowed his father to envelope him in a tight hug.

"Are you sure you do not wish to remain here with me?" Elrond questioned jokingly, rubbing his youngest's back through the thick material of his hunting jerkin and winter cloak.

"No," Elrohir said confidently. "I must make sure that Elladan does not kill all of the orcs without me." He still looked somewhat hesitant to leave his father's side, but there was also a strong resolve in his eyes to prove himself to the much older and more experienced warriors that were accompanying them. It was the first time the twins had been separated from both of their parents for an extended period of time.

"Come now, _pen-neth_, we mustn't keep your brother waiting," Erestor smiled, sharing an amused look with his lord. Elrond followed them towards the waiting group, scanning a critical eye over the party.

"You will be careful with them, Glorfindel," he informed the leader of the small party.

"_Ada_, we are _adults_ now," Elladan complained, giving his father a suffering look. He had diligently reminded his father of that at every opportunity for the past seven years, since the day he and Elrohir had reached fifty years old and their majority. Elrond pursed his lips together.

"Do not worry, _mellon_, no harm shall befall anyone," Glorfindel laughed. "Let us depart."

The party of eight elves and four men crossed the bridge that would let them out of structural part of Imladris, though it would take them until the end of the night to reach the true borders of the elven refuge. The leader of the group was, of course, Glorfindel. He had hand picked three of his best warriors, Turma, Ehtyar, and Cúrië, to travel with them as well, more for the peace of mind of Elrond and Erestor than for necessity. Erestor was not as easily appeased as their lord, and had therefore decided to also come, if not to make sure Glorfindel did not get the twins killed, but to keep poor Lindir company. Lindir would have rather not come, being in the middle of a new song, but Glorfindel had demanded his presence and Lindir was never one to purposely conflict with anyone.

The men in their group had come at the request of the twins, who had always been fascinated with their late uncle's descendants, the rangers whom they had befriended in the last decade. Adkar was the leader of the men and had been a fairly constant presence in the twins' lives since they were born. With him was Ramses, another man who was familiar to the twins. The last two humans, Metarch and Tarmin, were strangers, brought by Adkar because they had proven themselves as capable warriors.

"Sing for us," Elladan requested of Adkar with a wide grin. Adkar returned his infectious smile.

"What song would you like?" he questioned. He had occasionally incited the ire of Elrond and Erestor with his less than poetic songs in the Hall of Fire, but the twins soaked up every word… the reason Elrond and Erestor disliked the songs.

"The maiden song," Elrohir suggested, perking up slightly at the thought of the bawdy songs the men knew.

"Elrohir…" Erestor sighed, but it did not prevent Adkar from starting the song at the top of his lungs. Seconds later both twins had joined in. The other men added their deep voices. Lindir rolled his eyes, but couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his mouth as he observed the mirth of the twin sons of Elrond.

The singing continued for hours and Erestor swore they sang every lewd song known to men, and repeated some of them. Despite the abuse of his ears and integrity, he didn't comment, knowing it was keeping the wild twins occupied and out of trouble.

Glorfindel dropped back to keep step with Lindir. "Why do you not partake in the singing? I am sure your beautiful voice would compliment theirs exquisitely."

Lindir gave him an exasperated look, his hazel eyes looking pained. "Whoever defined this as music was obviously deaf," he complained.

"You wound me, child," Glorfindel teased. He had partaken in some of the songs and laughed merrily at the rest.

"I still do not understand why I had to come," Lindir changed the subject.

"I wanted to make sure you have not lost all of the sword skills I labored so hard to teach you," answered Glorfindel.

"I have not," Lindir informed him. "They are of no use to me, anyway."

"Oh?"

"I am sure there will always be someone there to defend me should I be attacked," Lindir joked, knowing that Glorfindel hated it when people were unable to defend themselves against physical threats. Every elf, including the female servants in Elrond's home, had been rigorously schooled in the art of self-defense. He had even started training the twins at the tender age of twelve, much to Celebrían's consternation.

"I think it is time to stop for the night," Adkar stated after a while. The sun had started to set, and before long it would be dark. The winter days were shorter and while no one in the party was particularly tired, it would be too dangerous to trudge through the snow in the dark.

"I agree," Glorfindel nodded. He doled out jobs to each person in their group so the camp could be set up quickly. Usually, they would not have to set up tents, as the elves loved to stare up at the stars, but with the threat of snow still imminent it was a safety measure to prevent them from becoming buried in a snowdrift.

"How long until we reach the mountains?" Elrohir questioned, bouncing over to Glorfindel's side. Glorfindel was glad to see his enthusiasm had returned. For a minute he had worried that Elrohir would succumb to his father's subtle urgings to remain behind, but the younger twin had held strong and now looked to be enjoying himself immensely.

"Less than two weeks," Glorfindel replied.

"Will we see orcs before then?"

"I hope not," laughed the balrog-slayer. "Otherwise, they would be too close to Imladris for comfort."

"I told Elladan we would not," Elrohir gloated. He hurried from Glorfindel's side to inform Elladan of his blunder.

_**tbc…**_

Translations:

_Ada_ (Sindarin) – "dad"

_pen-neth_ (S) – "young one"

_mellon_ (S) – "friend"

please review.


	2. Chapter Two

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._

**_Dandelion_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer.

**Chapter Two**

They reached the base of the Misty Mountains midway through the second week of their journey. So far, they had had excellent luck. Except for a light snowfall a few days ago, the weather had been fair and they were able to move quickly. The excitement of the bawdy songs had, much to the relief of Lindir and Erestor, ended, but they were constantly plagued with new menaces. The twins had amused themselves by telling the men all the embarrassing stories they could think of about their elven companions, inciting snowball fights, and bickering endlessly over who would kill more orcs when they finally encountered them.

"I have never seen so much energy balled into a single being," Ramses commented, sitting down across the fire from Erestor and Lindir. Erestor was absently watching the twins wrestle and try to bury each other in the deep snow. Lindir was writing lyrics on a sheet of parchment in careful Tengwar, having been inspired by the majesty of the towering mountains.

"I admit I had hoped this endless walking would tire them out slightly," Erestor mused.

"I am tired," Adkar supplied, sitting down next to his fellow man. He leaned back slightly, pointing his toes towards the large fire.

"Already?" asked Glorfindel, taking a seat next to Lindir. The younger elf frowned. Everyone seemed to want his and Erestor's attention at the moment. He would get no more work done on his song. However, before he could hide the paper away in his satchel, it was plucked from his fingers.

"Glorfindel!" he exclaimed, trying to snatch the paper back. The aged warrior had no trouble holding the younger elf at bay while he scanned the nearly perfect handwriting.

"It is good," he complimented after a minute, handing the paper back to its flustered owner.

"Thank you," Lindir snapped harshly. He shoved the paper into the bottom of his traveling pack and glared angrily at the fire.

"What?" Glorfindel asked.

"Nothing," Lindir replied calmly. He took a deep breath and offered Glorfindel a strained smile. The older elf frowned, unsure of what had upset the blond. He looked questioningly at Erestor, but the dark haired advisor had no better idea than he did. Adkar and Ramses were also confused, but refrained from saying anything.

"I won!" Elrohir shouted to the group gathered by the campfire. The seated travelers smiled at his rosy face and that of his disheveled twin.

"Did not!" Elladan argued and dragged the younger twin back down to the ground.

"Be careful," Erestor cautioned, but he doubted either twin heard him. However, the brief interruption had eased some of the tension and Adkar turned to Glorfindel questioningly.

"What path do you plan on taking through the mountains?"

"I have not decided yet," Glorfindel replied thoughtfully. "It depends greatly on how clear the passes are and what problems we encounter." The rest of the group nodded silently, all knowing that they were moving closer to the areas where orcs and wargs had been sighted frequently.

"Even though the twins wish to prove their prowess on the battle field, I would rather avoid as many conflicts as possible. We'll probably run into enough trouble without going looking for it," Erestor pointed out.

"I agree," Adkar replied. "It will also be colder in the mountains. We should try to not tax ourselves too much."

"Good," Glorfindel said. "I will keep all of this in mind."

"Glorfindel," Turma spoke up, standing slightly away from the fire circle.

"Yes?"

"We have finished scouting the area. All seems to be calm," he reported.

"Thank you," Glorfindel nodded. "Please inform Ehtyar that he will be taking the second watch and Metarch the third."

"And the first?"

"I shall take it tonight."

"I believe I am ready to retire now," Erestor spoke, climbing gracefully to his feet. "Elladan! Elrohir! It is time to sleep," he called to the sons of Elrond, who had finally stopped wrestling and were whispering quietly to each other under the protection of a large pine tree.

"I shall head to bed as well," Adkar informed them. He retired to his tent, followed by Ramses. The four men shared a tent to share body warmth, as they were not as impervious to the chill as the elves. Slowly, the others drifted into the tents, eventually leaving Glorfindel by himself next to the fire, wondering what had gotten into Lindir to make him so testy that night.

Doing a quick mental calculation, Glorfindel was surprised that already more than 1,950 years had passed since the blond minstrel had arrived in Imladris as a teary-eyed twenty-two year old, clutching the skirts of an older female elf. Glorfindel had instantly taken a deep interest in the frightened youth, as he reminded him of someone he had lost long ago. He took the hazel-eyed blond under his wing, practically adopting him as his own. He was disappointed when Lindir did not take to the sword, but he was so naturally talented in the arts that Glorfindel had grudgingly handed over his schooling to Erestor with a resigned smile. That didn't stop Lindir from idolizing the famous Elda warrior and for as long as he had been in Imladris, his rooms had been right next to Glorfindel's. Glorfindel wished he had not had to put this distance between himself and Lindir.

_**tbc…**_

please review.


	3. Chapter Three

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Dandelion_**

Thank you **Amy** for my first review. Glorfindel is actually one of the primary characters in the whole arc, so hopefully you'll enjoy the other stories as well, once they are posted.****

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way. No beta, all mistakes are my own.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer.

**Chapter Three**

Lindir had not gone straight to bed, but rather wandered slightly away from the camp to stare up at the stars and the inky blackness that was the mountains. He was very confused and deeply troubled when he returned to the camp, pausing briefly to view the Gondolin warrior whose focus was concentrated on the perimeter of the camp. Pressing his lips together into a thin line, he turned away again and slipped into the tent he would share that night with Erestor and the twins.

His elvish eyes had no trouble making out the three forms already resting inside the dark tent. Erestor was stretched out regally, his hands folded across his chest. The twins were curled together, fast asleep, clearly more tired than they had let on earlier.

Lindir unfolded his bedding silently. He removed his boots and set them next to his bow, quiver, and sword, which he had stowed there earlier. He lay down and was preparing to relax into sleep when he heard Erestor's deep voice.

"You are troubled, my child," he said.

"I do not wish to speak of it," Lindir replied.

"It has something to do with Glorfindel," Erestor continued. Lindir sighed. He sat up again and hugged his knees to his chest. He watched the intertwined forms of Elladan and Elrohir, their chests rising and falling in sync as they slept peacefully.

"I envy them," Lindir mused. Erestor turned onto his side so he could see Lindir better. "The twins," he elaborated, answering Erestor's unasked question. "Elrond's life revolves around them."

"It does," Erestor confirmed.

"I do not even remember my father's face," Lindir admitted softly. "My mother, I can see her as clearly as if she stood before me, but I only see shadows when I think of my father."

"You were old enough to remember him," Erestor commented.

"Perhaps if he had ever been there, I would be able to recall his face. It shames me to say this, but every tear I have shed for my parents has been exclusively for my mother."

"Do not feel guilty," Erestor urged him. "How you feel is not something you can control."

"I know," Lindir mumbled. "Erestor?"

"Yes?"

"I want to sail." Lindir didn't know what sort of reaction he expected, but it bothered him greatly that Erestor remained deathly silent for long seconds that seemed to stretch into hours.

"When did you decide this?" the older elf finally questioned.

"Months ago. I was simply waiting for the right time to leave." He sounded unsure of himself, as if he was questioning his decision. Erestor picked up on this and tried to use it to his advantage. He would greatly miss the minstrel if he left and selfishly didn't want him to leave.

"And now you have changed your mind?"

"No. I am just very confused."

"I think I can see where this is heading. I have noticed that you and Glorfindel are not as close as you were before he left for the Last Alliance." He did not let on how much he actually knew about the situation.

"It is as if he forgot I exist," Lindir frowned. "He has no time for me, ignores me when we are in the same room, and is distant when I talk to him. I still do not understand why he dragged me on this stupid trip, but now that I am here, I am even more confused than before. Suddenly he takes great interest in me again. I do not know what to think."

"I am at a loss as well. You should speak with him."

"No," Lindir shook his head. "I am not his son. He owes me nothing. He has already given me so much."

"Perhaps I should have a few words with him."

"No, please say nothing to him," Lindir begged. "I do not want to burden him. I will simply slip away quietly once we return."

"I cannot change your mind, but I would advise against that course of action," Erestor replied softly. "I give you my word, though. I will not speak a word of this to Glorfindel."

"Thank you," Lindir whispered. One of the twins sighed deeply in his sleep and rolled over before settling back into a deep sleep. Lindir lay down, desperate to escape into elvish dreams and hide from his thoughts for a while.

"We shall find orcs today, I am sure," Elladan announced to the group as they started up the side of the mountain.

"You are quite eager, young one," Adkar chuckled.

"Of course. That is why we are here, is it not?" Elladan grinned.

"That is only part of the reason," Erestor corrected him. "This is also a good learning experience."

"I hope we find an orc today," Elrohir sighed from where he walked next to Lindir, watching his twin jump around at the front of the line.

"You are not enjoying yourself anymore, 'Ro?" Lindir questioned.

"No, I am," Elrohir insisted quickly. "I simply miss my father and would like to see him again soon."

"We will be home before you know it," Lindir assured him.

"Elrohir! Stop being a baby and see if you can throw a snowball further than I!" Elladan challenged. It was impossible that he would have heard the quiet words exchanged between the two friends, but he had sensed his twin's melancholy and tried to distract him. It seemed to work as Elrohir hurried to his brother's side, scooping up snow as he went.

"You seem in a better mood this morning," Glorfindel commented, falling into step beside Lindir.

"I am," Lindir replied.

"Will you not confide in me?"

"No," Lindir answered and refused to speak any more on the topic.

"My lord," Cúrië interjected, stepping up next to Glorfindel and Lindir. He had an impish smile on his face. "Ehtyar has sighted orc tracks about a league north of us. They are only a few hours old and pointed towards the west."

"Perhaps we're not quite ready to engage orcs," Lindir said hopefully, noticing how the twins' competition had turned into a snowball fight.

"Of course we are, that is what we are here for, is it not?" Glorfindel smiled. "We shall travel northwest to try to cut them off. Cúrië, take Lindir, Turma, and Ehtyar to set up a perimeter. Only provide cover, don't kill any unless it's necessary. Try to let the twins take on as many as possible. I shall bring them, Erestor, and the men along quickly behind you."

"Yes, my lord," Cúrië replied.

"May the Valar protect you," Glorfindel told him and then turned to Lindir. "Watch yourself," he instructed in a clearly protective tone. Lindir nodded and then followed Cúrië to find Turma and Ehtyar.

"Erestor. Adkar," Glorfindel called, motioning for the dark haired elf and the leader of the men to drop back to him.

"What is it?" Adkar questioned, having seen the other four elves leave quickly.

"Orcs have been sighted to the northeast. We're going to try to cut them off. The others have left to set up a perimeter with arrows. Please, inform your men to avoid killing the orcs when possible. Let the twins take most of them."

"I will do that," Adkar said with a large smile. He loved the adrenaline rush that came with battle, especially when it was against the foul creatures of Sauron.

"Will you post one man to watch the horses? They are not battle-trained and will probably become frightened."

"I will assign Tarmin to that task," Adkar agreed. He left to tell his men of their attack strategy. Glorfindel called the twins back to his side.

"Orcs have been sited-"

"Finally!" Elladan whooped.

"Calm down," Erestor admonished. He did not think it necessary for Elladan and Elrohir to be led straight into harm's way. They would probably encounter enough danger in their immortal lives to negate the necessity of this exercise.

_**tbc…**_

please review.


	4. Chapter Four

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Dandelion_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Four**

Erestor had worried that the twins would not take the fight seriously, as they had taken very little seriously on the entire trip. However, he should not have doubted Glorfindel's skill as a teacher, nor the intelligence of the sons of Elrond. Once they had come within sight of the foul creatures all smiles had dropped from the twin's faces and they were the as serious as the most seasoned warrior.

Glorfindel let out a low whistle that would have been lost in the wind if the waiting elves had not known to listen for it. A response came, informing Glorfindel that the elves were ready for the attack to start. The orcs began to grown unsettled, as if their long buried elven instincts were alerting them of danger. A few drew their swords, others notched bows, and the remaining beasts mocked them for their paranoia. Those were the first ones to fall under the skillfully wielded blades of the Peredhil.

"One!" Elladan shouted above the din of the battle, starting a game that would be played many centuries later by one of their good friends during a much more important battle. "Two!"

Glorfindel focused on stunning his enemies, giving them the chance to get up again and resume their fight. Unfortunately, this made the orcs think him weak and more pressed on him. "El'dan!" he shouted, drawing the older twin's attention to him. A concerned look crossed the younger elf's face and he immediately rushed to aid his mentor. With some of the orcs' attention drawn away, Glorfindel spared a moment to check on Elrohir, who was being watched closely by Erestor. He was very proud of the young warriors. He had yet to notice a dangerous mistake on either's part and only a few arrows had been fired into the melee when an elf or man had been too outnumbered.

The battle was over before they knew it and all of the orcs lay slain, their black blood staining the once pure snow. All paused to catch their breath and check for injuries. Fortunately, none had suffered more than a scratch.

"Twenty!" Elladan announced. He was tired and the battle had not been as much fun as he thought it would be. The orcs had been strong, yet slow. Their blood splayed thickly and their bodies reeked of filth and death. He wanted nothing more than a long, warm bath, which he knew he would not obtain that night in the mountains.

"Eighteen," Elrohir frowned, disappointed that his brother had killed more than he.

"You both did well," Glorfindel praised them, dropping a hand on Elladan's shoulder. "There were only a few mistakes I noticed, which we can practice in the morning. First, we must dispose of the bodies."

"How many did you kill, Glorfindel?" Elladan asked.

"Only two," the balrog-slayer admitted with an amused smile.

"Erestor?"

"Five."

"Adkar?"

"Three, young lord."

Elrohir turned accusingly towards the older beings. "You did not kill many on purpose!"

"This trip is for you and your brother," Glorfindel exclaimed. "We do not mind a little humility."

"Come, let us take care of this mess and then clean ourselves," Erestor suggested, brushing blood-caked black hair back from his face.

"I feel disgusting," Elrohir complained, rubbing his sleeve over his forehead, not realizing it smeared the gore even more.

"You look disgusting," Elladan joked.

"So do you," Elrohir replied.

With all twelve members of the hunting group working together, it did not take long to pile all of the slain bodies together and set the pile on fire.

"I do not like the smell of burning flesh," Lindir commented to Erestor as they trudged away from the battlefield towards where Tarmin waited with the horses. They decided to set up camp for the night about a mile upwind from the burning mound. Lindir helped Turma start a fire, as both of them had been away from the battle and therefore were not dirty. Once the fire was burning strongly they used one of their cooking pots to boil snow so their companions could have warm water to wash with.

By the time they were done cleaning themselves, dinner had been prepared and they ate quietly until Adkar asked, "So, my young lords, what did you think of your first battle with orcs?"

"It was much different than we anticipated," Elladan replied. "It was strange to be in a situation where a mistake did not cost a lecture from Glorfindel, but my life."

"I will be glad to help rid Middle-earth of their filth, but I will not see it as a game any longer," Elrohir added. Elladan nodded in agreement.

"I am glad to hear that," Erestor said. "Your father will be happy, as well."

"I am tired," Elladan yawned and rested his head on his twin's shoulder.

"I fear Middle-earth is about to end," Ramses joked. "One of the Peredhil is tired?"

"Be quiet," Elladan smirked. "You all made 'Ro and I do most of the fighting."

"Yes, we did," Glorfindel chuckled. "Your tent is standing, if you'd like to make use of it."

"I think we will," Elladan replied, sitting up straight again before climbing to his feet. He pulled Elrohir up and the two sons of Elrond disappeared into one of the tents, ready to sleep. Once they were safely inside, Glorfindel turned to Adkar.

"Now that we have come in contact with orcs, I would like to double the watch. Turma and Ehtyar, please take the second watch. Adkar, would you and one of your men take the third watch? Erestor and I shall take the first."

"But you fought hard in today's battle," Lindir argued. "You should let Cúrië and I take first watch, for we are the least tired."

"No, I am quite awake. I still feel adrenaline in my blood," Glorfindel argued. "If you are not tired, perhaps you would work more on your song."

"Nay, I am tired after all," Lindir denied. He stood and disappeared into the same tent the twins had a few minutes earlier. The rest of the group turned in for the night as well, leaving only Glorfindel and Erestor seated by the campfire.

"I presume you wanted me to take watch with you because you had something to say to me," Erestor confronted his friend.

"You are too observant, my friend," Glorfindel sighed. "I know Lindir spoke to you last night."

"Did you overhear our conversation?"

"No, I do not believe in eavesdropping on loved ones. I only sensed that he was very upset and was better in the morn. I doubt the twins had anything to do with that, as caring as they are."

"He did speak with me," Erestor admitted.

"Will you tell me?"

"No, I promised him I would not tell you what he said, but I did not promise I would not advise you."

"I would have your advice then. I do not like his sadness."

"You should explain to him the relationship you had with his mother and what happened to change you so during the Last Alliance and why now you seek contact again."

"I know he deserves to know the truth about his mother and I, but I am not ready to speak to him about the Last Alliance yet."

"You better become ready quickly, or you may lose the chance forever."

"What does that mean?"

"I am not at liberty to say," Erestor replied, but he raised an expectant eyebrow and Glorfindel understood his meaning, at least partially.

They spent the rest of their three-hour watch speaking of the happenings in Rivendell and how Celebrían and Elrond seemed to be flirting with each other more than usual. Maybe they could look forward to another Peredhel child within the coming years.

"Hopefully, from now on they will only come one at a time," Erestor mused, causing Glorfindel to laugh quietly.

Shortly, Turma and Ehtyar awoke to relieve them. Erestor stepped into the tent he shared with Lindir and the twins first, followed by Glorfindel. Erestor knelt down next to the tumble of arms and legs that was the Peredhil twins, checking for any signs of distress. They both seemed to be at peace, which eased his worries greatly. Glorfindel looked down sadly on the hazel-eyed minstrel, whose pale blonde hair looked almost the same color as his fair face in the dim lighting.

"Do not worry so much this night, Glorfindel. You still have time left," Erestor assured him. Glorfindel nodded, said goodnight, and departed to his own tent.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Ellfine** – I am glad you're enjoying the story so far.

**Amy** – There's lots more Lindir/Glorfindel tension to come.

**Seeing-spots** – Thank you for the three reviews!


	5. Chapter Five

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell.  
**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way. 

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Five**

The next morning was a lazy one, with Glorfindel passing a few of the early hours with the twins, perfecting some moves that he hadn't been a hundred percent happy with the day before. Turma and Ehtyar had been scouting and returned saying they had followed the tracks of the Orc party back to its origins and located another small group, but it would take them nearly a day to reach that point, longer if the orcs moved away from them.

Lindir sat a few yards from the camp, working privately on the song he had started before they left. Unfortunately, his inspiration seemed to have waned and he was having a difficult time finding words to express the turmoil he felt inside. After a while, he gave up and simply stared out over the white slopes of the mountains until Erestor called him back to the camp so they could eat a small lunch, pack, and set off again towards the orcs the scouts had located.

It was only a few minutes after midday when they started walking again. It was quiet for nearly an hour until Tarmin, the youngest of the humans, hesitantly requested a song of the elves. Lindir scowled as all the elves turned expectantly towards him, but gracefully he obliged, starting one of the more popular Hall of Fire songs.

Cúrië discovered a small valley containing a frozen lake about half a mile to the right of their course and they unanimously decided to camp there for the night. It was slightly early to stop, but Turma, Cúrië, Elladan, and Elrohir volunteered to hunt for fresh meat with Metarch and Tarmin while the rest of the group set up the camp.

Glorfindel had just finished hammering the last stake into the final tent when the hunters returned, Metarch carrying a small deer over his shoulder. "That was fast," he commented.

"There is not much game this time of year but Metarch's eyes are keener than even the elves' and he managed to shoot a deer," Cúrië grinned. "He has also volunteered to clean it."

"I did no such thing." Metarch shook his head in amusement. Still, he found his hunting knife and settled down with the task. Adkar helped him while Erestor and Ramses sorted through their dry supplies to find something that would compliment their venison dinner.

"Lindir!" Elladan shouted from the edge of the frozen lake where he and his twin were testing the thickness of the ice.

"What?" the older blond questioned.

"Come! The ice is thick. We shall play the 'Catch Me' game on it."

"I do not want to play your games," Lindir laughed. "Leave me out of it."

"Tarmin? Glorfindel? Cúrië?"

Glorfindel and Cúrië shook their heads no but Tarmin agreed, glad to have avoided being part of the dinner preparation.

"Lindir!" Elladan called again, this time with a smirk. "You are not so old as those ancient elves."

"You taunt me now?"

"If it convinces you to come."

"Go," Erestor pressed. "Do not be considered an ancient elf." He smiled as he said it so Lindir knew he had taken no offense to the comment.

"If you insist," Lindir sighed and stood, making his way towards the ice. He couldn't help but smile at Elladan's infectious grin and he figured he didn't really mind being part of the twins' games. He would rather play with them than have them play jokes on him.

"You are 'It'," Elladan informed his twin with a hard slap to the shoulder. He immediately darted away, nearly gliding over the icy surface as only an elf could, with Elrohir in hot pursuit.

"Why do I have the feeling they don't really need our participation?" Tarmin mused.

"They don't. They just like making the rest of us feel like fools as well," Lindir replied.

"Thankfully there is a light powdering of snow on the ice so there is slightly more traction," the human pointed out, testing the friction between his boots and the surface of the lake.

"We should put that to good use," Lindir said, motioning to Elrohir who had changed direction and was now running towards them, Elladan having eluded him for the time being.

Back at the campfire, the older men and elves watched the four in amusement as they darted across the slick surface and fell quite often, though Tarmin seemed to spend the most time on his behind. "They will certainly be sore come morning," Adkar chuckled.

"Yes. One would find it hard to believe that Elladan and Elrohir are already seven years past their majority by the way they act."

"Not even the elves are wise immediately upon their majority," Ramses pointed out. "Besides, I have heard they had a very sheltered childhood." He raised an eyebrow and looked over at Erestor.

"That was their father's fault, not mine," Erestor denied, recognizing the implication in Ramses statement.

"Of course," Adkar shook his head. "Are you not the slightest bit saddened that they didn't include you in their game, Erestor?"

"No. They know better," Erestor replied, causing the rest of the group to laugh.

The meat was nearly done cooking and already strips were being laid out to dry or packed with snow to be frozen so they could have meat again later. Erestor was just adding the last bit of seasoning to the venison stew when Glorfindel laughed, drawing all of their attention back to the antics on the lake.

"He is not going to escape his brother this time," Glorfindel predicted, watching as Elrohir slipped slightly trying to avoid the reaching hands of his twin. He suddenly tried to turn and twist, which would have worked had he not lost his footing and fallen backwards. To the horror of the watching group, his fall did not stop with a painful thud on the ice.

Glorfindel was halfway to the lake by the time Elrohir's dark head disappeared beneath the surface of the water.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

A/N: I am almost finished with the second story in this arc, which is actually a prequel to this story but can stand alone. Since I'm excited about being nearly completed with it, I will start posting this story more quickly so that I can start posting the second soon. However, I decided to only post this one chapter tonight since posting Chapter Six right away would have taken away from the cliffhanger.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – Wow, you should not compliment me so! I might start to get an ego. :P But anyway, I truly appreciate your kind words and I completely agree with your view on Elvish relationships.

**Andromedia** – I agree! More people need to write Glorfindel and Lindir, especially since I'm lazy and I'd rather read it than write it. ;)

**Bill** – Thank you for your encouragement! I hope you find the rest of story as much to your liking as the first few chapters.


	6. Chapter Six

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Six**

Time seemed to slow to nearly a stop as Lindir watched the younger Peredhel crash through the ice and the older take a flying leap over the hole to avoid falling in himself. He could only watch as Elladan skidded across the ice on his side, already trying to gain his footing again so he could hurry to his brother's aid. It was only when Elladan actually managed to get himself moving in the opposite direction, towards the hole, that time resumed its normal pace jarringly and Lindir could move his muscles again.

"Stay away from the edge!" he shouted, grabbing Elladan's arm a few inches before he would have reached the water that sloshed over the edge of the hole.

"I have to get him!" Elladan screamed, trying to pull away, and Lindir had a difficult time holding him back. Then, in a flurry of gray, blue, and red, Glorfindel was there, shoving the two younger elves back. Lindir grunted as he landed on his already bruised back and Elladan landed on top of him. Making sure to keep a strong grip on the older twin, he watched as Glorfindel dropped down onto his stomach and plunged his arms into the frigid water. It seemed like hours, but in reality it was only seconds until Glorfindel pulled back, dragging the soaked and deathly still Elrohir out after him.

"No!" Elladan cried, scrambling out of Lindir's grasp and crawling/sliding to his brother's side. It scared Lindir as well that Elrohir laid so still, so he let Elladan be.

"Stand back!" Glorfindel ordered in a tone neither that Lindir nor the twin had ever heard him use before.

"Is he alive?" Elladan sobbed, staying just out of arm's reach from his brother and Glorfindel.

"Get him off the ice," Glorfindel growled to Lindir. The younger elf didn't have to question why… he could see from here that Elrohir's chest wasn't rising and falling. A hysterical Elladan wouldn't be of any assistance to the ageless warrior. With a strength he didn't know he possessed, Lindir bodily hauled Elladan towards the shore, enduring kicks, elbows, and deafening screams until Turma and Cúrië rushed to help him. Lindir didn't even notice that Erestor had rushed past them to Glorfindel's side until they were safely off the treacherous ice.

Elladan wept into Lindir's shoulder while the minstrel and the others watched Glorfindel press the heels of his hands into Elrohir's chest with quick thrusts until the youngest elf in their group dispelled the icy water from his lungs and started breathing again, albeit with more coughs than deep breaths. He even managed to roll over onto his side under his own strength so he could cough up more water. Erestor used this new position to gently inspect the back of the half-elf's head while Glorfindel checked the rest of his body for injuries that would make it impossible to move him. He seemed to be mostly hale as the two elves carefully picked him up, Erestor supporting his upper body while Glorfindel carried his legs, and moved him back to the campsite.

"Somebody boil some water! Get the fire going stronger! Get my medicine bag off the horse!" Erestor barked orders at the spectators. Ramses quickly found a clean pot and filled it with snow before hanging it up over the fire. Ehtyar and Metarch dropped more wood into the fire and Cúrië ran to fetch the medicine bag. Lindir found a dry seat near the fire and sat down, pulling Elladan down with him, whispering in the younger elf's delicately pointed ear that Elrohir was fine. He leaned back against a conveniently placed log. They waited anxiously for Erestor and Glorfindel to emerge from the tent where they had gone to change their charge into dry clothes.

Minutes later Erestor emerged carrying a thick blanket. Glorfindel followed him holding Elrohir, who now shivered violently in the cold air. Erestor sat down before the growing fire and spread the blanket over his lap, where seconds later Glorfindel deposited Elrohir. Erestor quickly bundled the younger elf as tightly as he could, leaving only the tip of his nose uncovered. Even the men could hear Elrohir's teeth chattering on the other side of the fire.

"Where is my medicine bag?" Erestor questioned, much calmer than he had been before. Cúrië handed it to him. "Would you also bring me a bottle of the _miruvor_?" Cúrië nodded and hurried to find one of the bottles of restorative cordial. "He will be fine, he's just a little chilled," Erestor informed them, roughly rubbing the younger elf's arms through the blanket in an attempt to create more heat from friction.

"His head?" Lindir questioned cautiously, not wanting to upset Elladan any more.

"He must have hit it on the edge of the ice as he fell," Erestor answered. "It rendered him unconscious, but his eyes are clear and responsive. It won't have any lasting effects."

Adkar returned to the camp just as Cúrië handed the _miruvor_ to Erestor. "I am glad to hear he will be fine," the man said. "I just returned from the ice."

"Did you determine why that bit of ice was thinner than the rest?" Glorfindel questioned, sitting down on top of the log beside Lindir and Elladan. Lindir hated to admit it, but he was comforted by the older elf's presence. He rested his head against Glorfindel's knee and watched Erestor carefully administer the _miruvor_ to Elrohir. Erestor crushed a few select leaves from his medicine pouch and mixed them into the boiling water, which he held close to Elrohir's face so he could breathe in the hot water vapor and continue to be warmed from the inside as well as out. They all knew the leaves had no true medicinal purpose, but the scent they made when boiled was very calming and all of them had suffered a great shock that evening.

"Yes," Adkar replied. "I went back to the hole and discovered that it was a perfect circle cut out of nearly five inches of ice. I am surmising it was an ice-fishing hole. It hasn't been used long enough for a thin covering of ice to freeze over the top of it, and with the snow that covered the lake it would have been impossible for anyone to notice it."

"How thick was the ice over the hole?" Glorfindel questioned. He absently reached down to rest his hand on the top of Lindir's head.

"Only a small fraction of an inch. It may have held the weight of an elf normally, seeing as how you can walk on snow without much difficulty…" This was said with joking resentment, "but with the impact caused by Elrohir falling on it, it shattered instantly."

"Thank you," Glorfindel sighed.

It took nearly an hour, but eventually Elrohir stopped shivering so violently. The others had eaten during this time, except for Erestor, who shared a large bowl with Elrohir once he was satisfied the younger elf would not choke on the stew if another coughing attack took him. Lindir finally released Elladan, who moved carefully to Erestor's side to check on his brother's progress for himself. In the silent way that only he and his twin could, Elrohir managed to communicate to Elladan that he would survive and Elladan could finally relax.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – Thank you and you're welcome. I appreciate your honesty in reviews as well.

**Andromedia** – Thank you for the review!

**Ellfine** – I'm glad you're enjoying it and updates should be coming regularly now.


	7. Chapter Seven

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Seven**

"Lindir!" Erestor hissed. The fair-haired elf blinked awake and turned his head slightly.

"My lord?"

"I have become a Peredhil sandwich. I could use your assistance," Erestor said in a stage whisper. Truthfully, he did not care if he awoke either twin for as uncomfortable as they were making him. Lindir sat up and was unsuccessful in hiding his smirk at Erestor's predicament.

The Chief Advisor to Lord Elrond had positioned a drowsy Elrohir next to him so he could watch over the twin during the night. It hadn't truly surprised him when Elrohir had curled into him at one point, either, looking for warmth as he still shivered slightly in the cool tent. What he hadn't anticipated was Elladan crawling in behind him and practically cementing himself to the older elf's back. Erestor could barely breathe.

"Stop laughing," Erestor ordered, which only served to amuse Lindir even more.

"I am sorry," he spoke at length, when he could control his mirth. He leaned over Elrohir and Erestor carefully so he could wake the older twin. "Elladan… _pen-neth_, you must awaken now. Erestor doesn't appreciate being loved."

"Lindir…" Erestor said in a warning tone. Lindir grinned broadly at him as he sat back on his heels.

"Are you sure you want to be rescued, my lord? It is not everyday-"

"Keep speaking Lindir. I promise you will regret every word," Erestor threatened.

"_Ada_?" Elrohir questioned groggily and rolled onto his back, at least freeing Erestor from the front, even though Elladan had managed to wrap his arm entirely around the advisor. He sneezed faintly, which caused both Erestor and Lindir to stare at him in concern until he let out a deep breath and fell back into a heavier sleep.

"His eyes are closed," Lindir worried.

"He is fine. It is a disturbing trait of the Peredhil, but they sometimes sleep with their eyes closed. Elrond used to do it often when he was their age."

"You knew Elrond when he was the twins' age? But he fought in the War of Wrath!" Lindir exclaimed.

"He did very little fighting, Ereinion saw to that. Elrond and Elros were kept on a very short leash."

"I did not realize you were so… old."

"I am approximately four decades older than Elrond, but even Glorfindel is older than I. His first death was before Elrond was even born."

"I never knew. I thought my mother was an old elf in Middle-earth. She mentioned Gondolin once. Would it not be strange if she knew Glorfindel?"

"That would have been very strange," Erestor replied. Something mysterious glinted in his dark eyes that made Lindir uneasy, like there was something important he was missing, but he didn't have time to question the older elf for Glorfindel chose that moment to make his presence known.

"Good morning," he greeted, sticking his head through the flap of the tent.

"Good morning, Glorfindel. Lindir, child, would you mind checking that my medicine bag made it back into a saddlebag?" Erestor requested.

"Of course," the younger elf agreed. He nodded a greeting to Glorfindel and then slipped out around him. Erestor easily freed himself from Elladan's grasp and jostled him awake, much to the displeasure of the older twin. Still, he sat up obediently and scrubbed at his face, which was stiff from dried tears. Erestor stood and stepped over Elrohir's prone body, content to let him sleep for a few minutes longer.

"You need to speak with Lindir," Erestor whispered to Glorfindel as he passed him to exit the tent.

"So you keep saying," Glorfindel frowned.

The group was more subdued as they continued their journey through the Misty Mountains. Without the endless energy of the twin sons of Elrond keeping the party in good spirits, a sudden sense of melancholy had descended on the travelers. Erestor had suggested to Glorfindel that they return to Imladris but Elrohir promised he was feeling better and all but begged the two older elves to not abandon their mission on his account. Erestor had finally conceded, but he kept a close eye on the younger twin, who was currently walking calmly between Lindir and Elladan. Elladan refused to leave his brother's side.

Elrohir wouldn't admit to anyone, even Elladan, that his head still ached from hitting it on the ice and no matter how tightly he bundled his cloak around himself, he couldn't lessen the chill that seemed to surround him. He also suffered from a strange lethargy. Elladan knew something was wrong but he simply attributed to fall and didn't pester his twin about it. They spoke quietly to each other in clipped sentences that Lindir, in step beside them, couldn't understand as it was in a language the twins had made up many decades ago.

Glorfindel was at the front of the column, pondering over his relationship with the younger blond-haired elf in their group. He replayed their long history together over in his mind, but it did little to convince him to speak seriously with the one he had unofficially adopted as his own so many centuries ago. Too many dark memories resurfaced from the Last Alliance.

The memories about the last war weren't the only dark things surfacing that day. Adkar watched the gathering clouds warily and within a few hours he could tell they were in for a bad storm. They needed to seek a shelter for the night that could withstand more snow than a flimsy tent.

Noon came and they stopped for a short lunch. Elrohir was very grateful, as he started to feel like he couldn't walk any further without falling over. Not only had his headache grown worse; he felt lightheaded and he was starting to shiver again. Ignoring any opportunities to help prepare the midday meal, he dragged Elladan over to a solitary pine tree and crawled beneath its green boughs, curling up with his older brother. Elladan was very concerned to feel his twin shivering again.

"'Ro?" he questioned softly, hugging the younger elf tightly.

"I want _Ada_," Elrohir answered in a choked whisper. "I feel horrible."

"What pains you?" Elladan asked.

"My head and I am so cold." Elladan himself was not chilled and he wore only a thin cloak over his thick jerkin. Elrohir was wrapped in a thick winter cloak and wore fur-lined mittens. He should have been too warm if anything.

"Let me fetch Erestor. You are in need of more herbal tea, brother."

"No, just sit with me. It will pass," Elrohir argued. "I do not want to end your orc hunting trip prematurely."

"I do not care about that!" Elladan insisted. "I can hunt orcs whenever I want. Besides, it is not as much fun as I thought it would be."

"I am comfortable here, do not leave me," Elrohir replied. "You are making me warmer." Elladan, against his better judgment, remained where he was and stroked his brother's hair until Elrohir fell asleep against his side.

"Where are the twins?" Glorfindel asked once everyone had been served a portion of the dried meat from the deer and some nuts from the supplies.

"They are under that tree," Metarch supplied, pointing towards the lone pine. Glorfindel looked where he was pointing. Concern rose within him when he saw the worried look on Elladan's face.

"I will retrieve them," the head of Imladris' guard said. He walked quickly towards the twins, leaving Erestor looking anxiously after him.

"Glorfindel!" Elladan exclaimed once the warrior was within hearing range of his loud whisper. "He burns!" Elrohir's forehead rested against the curve of his neck and Elladan felt as if the heat of his flesh was searing him. He had never encountered something like this before and it frightened him.

"Shhh," Glorfindel tried to soothe him. He ran a cool hand over Elladan's head before reaching down to pull Elrohir off of him.

"No, don't leave me," Elrohir muttered drowsily, trying to cling to his brother. His limbs felt heavy and weak, so it was no problem for Glorfindel to pick him and place him on wobbly feet.

"He is feverish," the blond informed Elladan. This concerned Glorfindel as he had never encountered a fevered elf that did not suffer from an infected wound. He knew some strange illness plagued the younger Peredhel for he and Erestor had thoroughly checked the youngest elf for injuries the night before while changing him into dry clothes. He had none but a few minor scratches and the bump on his head.

"Woah," Elrohir groaned as the world spun around him.

"I am glad you are feeling completely recovered," Glorfindel snapped, but his anger came only from his increasing worry at the younger elf's state. Elrohir flinched slightly at the tone. His head was clearing quickly now that he was standing and the cold air felt wonderful on his flushed face. It was not long until he could return to the seated group under his own power, although Glorfindel keep a strong hold on him and Elladan hovered worriedly.

"I wish _Ada_ was here to fix him," Elladan sighed.

"Unfortunately, your father is many leagues away, but if there is any who knows as much about medicine as your father, it is Erestor," Glorfindel assured the older twin. Erestor had been with Elrond since the lord of Imladris was found in a cave behind a waterfall way back in the First Age, and was probably the closest to the half-elf after Elrond's immediate family.

"What is ill with him?" Erestor asked as soon as they reached the rest of the group. He held out his arms and Glorfindel carefully deposited Elrohir into them. Elladan sat down close to Erestor on his other side, anxiously watching his brother's face.

"Fever," Glorfindel answered.

"Will he be hale again?" Elladan questioned fearfully.

"He will be," Erestor promised the older twin. Truthfully, he was very worried himself, as he had never experienced this before in an elf. He would have been much comforted if Elrond had been present. He cringed internally. He worried for his own safety if anything happened to either twin. Elrond would not be very forgiving.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Translations:  
_pen-neth_ (Sindarin) – "young one"  
_Ada_ (S) – "dad or daddy"

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – I fixed that mistake in Six. I'm glad you pointed it out. Lindir had the help of a lot of adrenaline and the twins are still young. Eventually he won't be able to bodily haul them around anymore. :)

**Andromedia** – You're welcome for the update and here is another. I'm glad Glorfindel was calm too… I think in his place I would have reacted more like Elladan and been of no help at all!


	8. Chapter Eight

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Eight**

With every step he took, Elrohir swore he felt more miserable. He had flashes of being chilled to the bone, and then it felt as if a fire burned from within him. He could barely see straight anymore and only his twin's death grip on his arm kept him upright and moving in a semi-straight line. The leaders of the small group had unanimously decided to return immediately to Imladris and would have if it were not for the fat flakes of snow that started to fall around mid-afternoon. By late afternoon, the dark clouds had completely blocked out the sun and the wind howled viciously. If he wasn't already 57 years old, Elrohir was sure he would have started crying. He felt as if he was dying.

"Turma!" he heard Glorfindel shout from somewhere in front of him, but he couldn't see the famed warrior through the swirling snow.

"Captain! We have located a semi large cave which is deep and dry," the scout answered.

"How far?"

"Perhaps a mile," Turma answered. Elrohir groaned internally. He was ready to drop to his knees right here. He was not sure if he could walk another mile.

"Captain!" Cúrië yelled over the howling wind. "Orcs, half a mile to the North. They are headed directly towards us!"

Glorfindel swore in Dwarvish. "How fast are they moving?"

"Quickly. I do not know if they know of us, but they will reach us within the quarter hour!"

"How many?"

"It is a large group. Upwards of one hundred!" Glorfindel swore again. The elves would most likely be fine in the conditions, given that they could walk on top of the snow and see better through the blinding whiteness of the blizzard, but the men would flounder and he knew Elrohir was barely managing to keep on his feet. He had only one choice.

"We must make a run towards the cave. Once there, we should be able to defend it more easily."

Run? Elrohir knew he could not run. The thought made his stomach turn. He squeezed his twin's hand as tightly as he could, which wasn't very hard at all. Still, Elladan understood and wrapped an arm around his twin's shoulder.

"The cave is due east," Turma informed them. This meant very little to the Rangers, who were quite turned around by the blowing snow, but the elves, who were connected with the earth, felt confident they could find it.

"Let us go. Make sure everyone, including the horses, arrive safely!" Glorfindel ordered. He suddenly wished he had Asfaloth with him. The huge warhorse would have no trouble in the snow, but the little packhorses already looked nervous and pained in their situation.

Elrohir started as the blond warrior suddenly appeared in front of him and his twin. "Elladan," Glorfindel instructed, "Stay directly by my side." Elrohir felt strong arms come around him and then the world tilted savagely as he was picked up and cradled like a newborn against the warrior's chest. He wanted to protest, but he feared more that Glorfindel actually would put him down than the embarrassment he would suffer at being carried. He felt very safe in the Elda's arms, as Glorfindel had always been the unofficial protector of the Peredhil clan.

It would have only taken ten minutes for the light footed elves to reach the dark cave, but the humans plundered ahead at a much slower pace and Glorfindel refused to leave anyone behind. Fortunately, they all managed to reach the cave a scant twenty minutes before the orcs came upon them, also looking for shelter.

Glorfindel set Elrohir down a few yards into the dark cavern, just inside the shadows. "Guard your brother," he ordered Elladan, and then rejoined the rest of the group at the entrance to face their foe.

The sound of the wind mixed with the shouts of elves, men, and orcs and the whinnies of frightened horses created a deafening din just outside the cavern. The result of that was both a blessing and a curse, for the ensuing avalanche buried most of the orcs who could not escape quickly enough, but it also trapped the travelers inside their dark cave.

_The previous day_

"Elrond?" Celebrían asked her husband, sitting down on the edge of his desk. He was leaning over with his elbows resting on the polished wood and rubbing his temples as if his head hurt.

"A vision, from your mother," Elrond informed her.

"All is well?" Celebrían asked with concern. She had just returned a few days ago from a short visit to the Golden Wood. She was disappointed to have missed the departure of her sons, but Elrond assured her they would not be gone for more than a month or two.

"No," Elrond looked up at her, worry in his eyes. "All is not well. I must find them."

"Mother's visions are not always correct. Sometimes the mirror attempts to lead her astray," Celebrían insisted, not wanting confirmation for the growing dread that had taken up residence in her heart. Unfortunately, Elrond shattered that hope.

"No, beloved. Her vision only confirms the feelings I have had all day. Something goes ill with one of the twins and I fear the entire party is in danger."

"We must leave immediately," Celebrían decided, standing up and gathering her skirts.

"I will find an escort," Elrond nodded. They kissed briefly and then each went quickly in different directions, driven by the fear of an unknown ailment to one of their precious sons.

They left Imladris at a full gallop on the best horses of the Last Homely House within half an hour, accompanied by five trained warriors.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – It gets hinted at again in nine and ten, but in Chapter Eleven, Glorfindel explains his relationship with Lindir. In one of the other stories, the one I plan to post next, you'll get even more background.

**Ren** – Here you go. I'm glad you like it so far and _mmm_, a Big Mac does sound good right now. ;)


	9. Chapter Nine

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell.  
**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

_I just realized that has been deleting my section dividers. I'll eventually fix that, and I hope it hasn't been horribly confusing. annoyed_

**Chapter Nine**

It did not take long for Turma and Ehtyar to start a small fire, from which they fashioned temporary torches to light the small enclosure. The fire was quickly extinguished so the cave would not fill with smoke. Glorfindel assigned shifts of diggers to carefully attempt to clear the blocked entrance to the cave. Erestor and Adkar tended to the minor injuries that some of the elves and men had sustained during the skirmish with the orcs. Fortunately, the worst wound was a shallow cut to Metarch's sword arm.

The first shift of diggers commenced working, leaving the others to rest against a far wall of the cave while they waited for their turn. Erestor leaned his head back against the rock wall, revealing in the coolness of the stone versus the heat radiating from his young charge. His eyes met Glorfindel's in the dimness and he saw that Glorfindel shared his worries over Elrohir.

"Would you like to hear the story of how I met your father?" Glorfindel asked, in an attempt to distract the waiting elves and men from their current predicament. He sat down on the other side of Elladan from Erestor.

"Yes, please," Elladan replied. Elrohir nodded weakly, barely able to lift his head from where it rested on Erestor's shoulder.

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_SA 442_

Glorfindel scowled climbed the steps to the small "palace" of Ereinion Gil-Galad. He had only been in Middle-earth for three days and already the despair of the place threatened to consume him. Of course, Glorfindel would never claim that life was worse than death, but at least in Mandos' Halls the elves hadn't stared at him in such an unsettling manner. Had so much truly changed since he died?

He was stopped at the door by two guards. "Please state your name, stranger," the first elf requested, one hand resting on his sword's handle in what he probably thought was a threatening manner. Glorfindel was not even the least bit intimidated.

"Glorfindel of Gondolin, the House of the Golden Flower," he answered testily.

"I am sorry, sir, but you must be mistaken," the second guard scowled. "Glorfindel of Gondolin has been dead for over five hundred years."

"He has been reborn," Glorfindel said darkly and shoved by the two guards, easily pushing them aside as if they were no bigger than elflings. He marched into the sparsely decorated hall and scanned the room for anyone who might be of service to him. It didn't take him long to notice that all of the rather stunned looking elves were dressed in black, as if they were mourning someone.

A tall, serious looking elf with piercing gray eyes and raven colored hair approached him quickly, wearing all black and an angry frown. "What is the meaning of this?" the elf demanded, stepping right up to Glorfindel.

"Who are you?" Glorfindel demanded.

"I believe it is I who should be asking you that question," the elf snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I shall indulge you, if it will make you leave that much sooner. I am Erestor, and I am an advisor to Ereinion Gil-Galad."

"I am Glorfindel of Gondolin, the House of the Golden Flower," the blonde replied and waited for the inevitable sarcastic comment from the other, but to his surprise, Erestor only regarded him coolly.

"I was twenty-five when Glorfindel died slaying a balrog. My sire was quite distressed at the loss of such a hero. Tell me, what is your purpose in Lindon?"

"I have been sent back by Mandos and Manwë to protect the half-Elven twins. This mission was not of my choosing, but I am loyal to the Valar and their purposes."

"And to leaving the Halls of Mandos. I hear they are not the most inviting of places."

"No, they are not." Glorfindel was quite surprised by this advisor, who neither doubted him nor mocked him for being reincarnated.

"Unfortunately, if it was indeed your mission to protect the Peredhil twins, I regret to inform you that you have already failed on one account. Elros Tar-Minyatur, King of Númenor, died just yesterday."

"Curse that meddling under-god," Glorfindel muttered to himself. Why send him back to protect the twins when one of them was about to expire any day?

"Of course," Erestor continued, with a sly grin, "I am sure Elrond will be more than enough to keep you occupied."

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"Elrond grieves," Gil-Galad said sadly, "as do us all, but it was his twin who died, after all. He does not permit anyone in his presence."

"You were just with him," Glorfindel pointed out.

"Of course. I am the King, I may do whatever I please in my kingdom," Gil-Galad chuckled. "The boys were like sons to me, but when they chose different paths, I fear I lost touch with Elros. He wanted to be counted among men, and I admit, if tempted by that fine young maiden, I may have chosen the same path. Elrond chose elvenkind and has become my herald. I warn you, Lord Glorfindel, I am very protective of my herald and will not allow just anyone to become close to him." The High King's tone had become darker with this last statement and Glorfindel never doubted the promise in those words.

"I understand, Ereinion," Glorfindel nodded.

"It saddens me that the Valar have sent you, my lord," Gil-Galad sighed, looking out over his small hall.

"Why is that?" Glorfindel questioned.

"You are the famous balrog-slayer, sent back to Middle-earth to protect the Peredhil. This means two important things. First, it means that Elrond has some very crucial role to perform yet in Middle-earth, one that will most likely bring him such strife as to warrant the protection of Arda's greatest warrior. Second, I will not be around to witness his most triumphant moment, for I am quite capable of protecting the youth myself."

"Do not bare false prophecy of your own death, Ereinion," Erestor spoke up. "Perhaps it is simply that the Valar knew one elf was not capable of ruling both Lindon and a head-strong half-elf."

"I hope it is as you say, my friend," Gil-Galad smiled. "Come then, and I will introduce you to your charge." Gil-Galad led the way down the wide hall towards the rooms of the royal family. He pushed open the second to last door on the right, not even bothering to knock.

"It is I, my little star-keeper," Gil-Galad said, entering the dark room.

"Be gone from my presence," came the heated reply, but it was obvious to Glorfindel that the invisible speaker had been crying by the rough quality of his voice.

"I would like you to meet Lord Glorfindel of Gondolin," the High King replied, motioning for Glorfindel to follow him into the room. The balrog-slayer did, and was impressed by the number of books that lined wall-to-wall bookcases in the room. Obviously the half-elf was a serious scholar. He looked towards the lit fireplace, before which a dark-haired figure was curled up in a large chair, closed book clenched in pale fingers.

"Glorfindel is dead, just like so many others," Elrond spat, standing from his chair and tossing the book into his vacated seat.

"He has been given new life," Gil-Galad explained.

"Isn't that convenient." Elrond stormed over to his bed and flopped down upon it, clearly in no mood to accept visitors.

"Please be kind. We all know of your loss, but it does not give you pardon to act as a barbarian," Gil-Galad scolded. "I will leave you two." He parted, ignoring Glorfindel's protests to not be left alone with the irate half-elf.

"What do you want?" Elrond demanded, never breaking his stare from the ceiling.

"I want nothing more than to return to Gondolin as it was before it was destroyed," Glorfindel answered with an annoyed tone. He would not give the younger elf the impression that he wanted to be there anymore than Elrond wanted him there. "Unfortunately, the Valar sent me here to watch over you."

"I do not need your protection," Elrond argued. "I have seen my future and you are not in it."

"Then perhaps you saw wrong, because I am here and I am not leaving."

"I am never wrong," Elrond informed him angrily, finally sitting up and glaring at his unwelcome visitor. "Of that you can be sure."

"There is a first time for everything."

"I do not need your protection," he repeated. "I care for myself."

"Obviously the Valar do not agree," Glorfindel snapped back, becoming tired of this young one's bravado.

"I do not _want_ your protection," Elrond reiterated. "So return to the Halls of Mandos if you so desire, but let me alone."

"I would like nothing more to return the Waiting Halls," Glorfindel growled, though that was a lie.

"Then let me assist you on your way," Elrond offered, reaching under his bed and withdrawing his long sword. He unsheathed it in one smooth move and his intent was clear. Glorfindel drew his own sword.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – Don't worry, I don't mind compliments. :) The rescue should happen soon.

**Ellfine** – I'm glad you're enjoying it and the updates should be coming almost daily as I prepare to start posting a prequel, and perhaps even a sequel will be ready shortly.

**Nimrodel** – Thank you for your enthusiasm! Updates should be coming almost daily.

**Andromedia** – I like that saying… "Morgoth's chains." Have you ever read _Catherine, Called Birdy_? It just reminded me of that book. Anyway, I guess the end of this chapter could be a cliffie, but you can probably guess how it turns out. :)


	10. Chapter Ten

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Dandelion_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Ten**

"_Ada_ tried to kill you?" Elladan asked in amazement. His father and the golden haired lord were very close friends now and he could not imagine his father acting threateningly towards almost anyone.

"He probably would have if Ereinion hadn't returned after hearing the commotion and ordered Elrond to stand down," Erestor answered.

"He would not have killed me," Glorfindel scowled.

"Then why were you backed up against a wall, clearly on the defensive without any hope of reversing the roles?" Erestor questioned.

"He took me by surprise, that is all," Glorfindel insisted. "He is the only one to have issued me a serious challenge since I returned to Arda, and he was only half of a millennium old."

"Of course," Erestor shook his head, and looked down to make sure the blankets were wrapped tightly around Elrohir.

Glorfindel glared at his fellow advisor. "Stop filling their heads with rubbish."

"How did you and _Ada_ become friends, then?" Elladan questioned, leaning towards the blond warrior. "Did he try to kill you again?"

"No, Gil-Galad ordered him to tolerate my presence. It took many years, but eventually he learned to trust me, and then love me."

"Of course, I had nothing to do with that," Erestor smirked. "It was not anything to do with your apparent lack of charm, but without my careful prodding, Elrond never would have given you a chance."

"You are in quite the mood today," Glorfindel frowned.

"I am simply supplying the truth," Erestor replied with a smirk. "Something you seem quite incapable of doing."

"We shall just have to ask Lord Elrond upon our return," Lindir interrupted, hoping to avoid an argument. "I believe sufficient time has passed. Is it not time to rotate the diggers?"

"I think you are right, Lindir. Thank you for volunteering," Glorfindel snapped. Lindir shot him an unimpressed look before standing and stalking off towards the blocked entrance to the cave to relieve one of the current workers. Erestor sighed with reprimand, which Glorfindel studiously ignored as he stood himself. He brushed a hand over Elrohir's forehead, his brow wrinkling with concern when he noted how hot the young elf still was. "Rest, young one," he said, and then made his way over to the diggers as well.

* * *

A few hours later Glorfindel took a break from helping to dig them out of the cave. He told the others to stop as well, allowing the resting men and elves to take over. Glorfindel walked deeper into the cave, where he had last seen Erestor with the sons of Elrond. The two youngsters were curled up together, fast asleep. Erestor paced a few yards away, looking rather flustered.

"Erestor?"

"I do not know what to do," Erestor admitted, wringing his hands together. "It seems that no matter what I try, his fever only grows worse. I do not know what to do. This illness is so unnatural."

"First, you must calm down," Glorfindel urged, grasping Erestor by the elbows and stopping his pacing.

"I am calm," Erestor insisted, but he couldn't help glancing nervously at the sleeping half-elves.

"Look at me," Glorfindel ordered and eventually Erestor did, holding the intense blue gaze with his own dark eyes. "Deep breath."

"I do not need your-"

"Deep breath," Glorfindel interrupted, making sure to keep Erestor's gaze. Erestor relented and breathed in deeply, and to his surprise, felt marginally better. The cave was not quite so claustrophobic anymore.

"I am calm," he repeated and this time Glorfindel believed him. "We must not become anxious, else we scare Elladan."

"I am not the anxious one, my friend," Glorfindel smirked, releasing the younger elf's arms.

"You hide it well," Erestor bantered, a knowing look in his eyes. Glorfindel was just as worried as he was.

"My lords," Adkar spoke from behind Glorfindel. The two elves turned towards him. "I could not help overhearing. Perhaps a man could finally be of service to an elf. I am quite versed in the ways of breaking fevers and since Elrohir is half-man, I am sure my methods will work on him." His offer was accompanied by an impish smile and Glorfindel had to chuckle.

"Aye, my friend. It is about time you were of some use." Erestor went with Adkar to help him tend to Elrohir while Glorfindel made his way slowly over to where Lindir was lying, eyes open but unseeing as he slept.

"Do they always sleep as such?" Adkar questioned, observing how the twins were tangled together.

"Yes," Erestor replied with a fond smile. "They are like oversized leeches with arms and legs. Once they become attached, they are quite difficult to dislodge. It is best to let them stick to each other." Gently Erestor pried Elladan away, waking both of the younger elves in the process.

"It is not morning yet, _Ada_," Elladan complained sleepily as Erestor sat him upright. He blinked once and then looked up at the dark-haired elf leaning over him. "Oh, 'Restor," he corrected himself.

"Adkar is going to try to lower your brother's fever," Erestor explained. Elladan watched closely as Adkar tended to his twin, blinking tiredly ever so often. Erestor stroked his thick dark hair, thinking back to a time when he had done the same to Elrond, when Elros, hair silvered and skin wrinkled, had lain upon his deathbed and Elrond had kept vigil over him for nearly a week. That was not long before Glorfindel had been returned to them.

Watching Adkar and Erestor with the twins reminded Glorfindel just how precious the children were. He was extremely grateful that Lindir was not prone to unnatural illnesses. He did not think his nerves could handle watching Lindir go through what Elrohir was.

He turned back to look at the younger blond. He reached over to move a few pieces of hair away from Lindir's face, being careful not to wake him. Suddenly feeling tired himself, Glorfindel laid down, draping one arm over his unofficially adopted son. He tried not to think about that night during the Last Alliance.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – You should have seen my silly smile when I read your review. Thank you very much for the positive feedback. It's good to know I'm not the only one who struggled with _The Silm_, and we're probably not alone, either. I'll have to give it another try soon, and I'm definitely going to check out _Last Hero Standing_ when I get the opportunity.

**Lilandra** – Thank you for your glowing compliments and I hope you didn't think the wait was too long for this next chapter.

**Andromedia** – I'm glad you liked Elrond and by now you know that he didn't hurt Glorfindel. :) Not too much more suffering… at least physically.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer.

**Chapter Eleven**

"We are getting close," Elrond shouted to his wife and the warriors that accompanied them as they rode hard towards the location of Galadriel's vision. The swirling snow barely fazed them as the seasoned war-horses plowed through the drifts.

"Close to where?" Celebrían asked despairingly.

"We will find them," Elrond promised her.

They had been riding for nearly two days straight, only stopping to rest the horses briefly. They had covered a great distance already and were nearly to where both Galadriel and Elrond had envisioned the lost hunting party. Elrond felt new hope growing in his heart. He was sure they would reach their sons before it was too late.

* * *

Lindir blinked awake, feeling strangely cold, as if there had been a source of heat next to him while he slept which was now gone. He turned his head slowly, surveying the company within the cave. The diggers had switched again, leaving Lindir to feel guilty as he had slept more than his fair share. He wondered why Glorfindel had not awoken him.

The balrog-slayer in question was seated a few feet away, talking softly to Erestor. Beyond them, Elladan was keeping vigil over his brother, who slept soundly. Metarch and Tarmin slept on the far side of the cave while the other two men dug at the rock and snow pile that trapped them under the mountain. Ehtyar and Cúrië were helping them while Turma rested.

Lindir slowly pushed himself to his feet, feeling oppressed by the ancient mountain that bore down on them. He could not wait to be free from their prison and to look upon the stars once more. He walked over to Erestor and Glorfindel.

"Why did you not wake me again?" he questioned of Glorfindel.

"I have just awoken myself," Glorfindel replied absently, patting the ground next to him. Lindir sat down grudgingly, realizing that it was Glorfindel's heat he missed when he awoke. The older elf must have lain next to him for a while. "Did you sleep well?" Glorfindel asked formally.

"Fine," Lindir replied shortly. He was so confused by Glorfindel's actions. One minute the Elda acted as if everything was normal between them, and the next he was distant and aloof again. Why lie next to Lindir and then act as if they were mere acquaintances? "How fare the twins?"

"Slightly better," Erestor replied and Lindir noted his relief. "Adkar has managed to bring Elrohir's fever down a degree or two and has instructed Elladan on how to continue his brother's care."

"That is good," Lindir nodded. He felt Glorfindel's intense blue gaze upon him and looked questionably at him. "Why do you look at me in such a manner?" he demanded.

"Have I not the right?" Glorfindel asked, looking somewhat sad.

"I do not understand you," Lindir voiced the old complaint.

"I do not think anyone does," Erestor replied, exchanging a knowing look with Glorfindel. Lindir frowned. What inside information did they share that they kept from him? Feeling rather ornery, from a combination of his confusion, frustration, and the feeling of suffocation from being trapped underground, Lindir decided to call them on it.

"You both look upon me as if you know some great secret that I am not privy to, yet concerns me greatly," Lindir spoke. "I would know it."

"By the Valar, Lindir is confronting someone," Glorfindel laughed, wrapping an arm around the annoyed minstrel and pressing a wet kiss on his cheek. Lindir scowled as he pushed Glorfindel away and wiped his face with his sleeve.

"Do not belittle me any further," he ordered. "I want answers."

"Answers to what, child?" Glorfindel inquired, amusement still on his face. He was glad to see Lindir finally standing up for himself.

"I am not a child, first of all," Lindir corrected. "And I would know why you even bothered with me at all in the first place, if it was your intention to treat me as you do now."

"It was never my intention to do anything to displease you. I cannot speak of what happened during the Last Alliance, but never doubt my love for you," Glorfindel answered.

"Why will you not tell me?" Lindir demanded.

"I am not ready. I have spoken to no one of it. Please do not ask me of it again." Lindir complied, seeing the pain in his mentor's face. It still did not abate his curiosity, however.

"At least tell me why you became my guardian in Imladris. You knew my mother in Gondolin, did you not?"

"Aye, I did," Glorfindel sighed. "Very well. We were lovers."

"What?" Lindir exclaimed, his exclamation causing those awake in the cave to pause and look over at him. He flushed in embarrassment. Glorfindel chuckled and wrapped his arm around Lindir again, pulling the younger blond against his side.

"I will tell you what I recall of my first life and then what Virë told me when you arrived in Imladris, of Ancalë's life after my death," Glorfindel said.

"Ancalë and I were passionate lovers, with the entire world at our feet. I was a few centuries older than her, but that never bothered either of us. I was a warrior in the Gondolindrim army and she was the daughter of an important elf. We were to be bonded a few months after Gondolin was attacked and fell to the power of the dark Lord. I sent her ahead with her family and they escaped. I stayed behind to fight, as was my duty and my honor. I never saw her again, as I died two days later, helping Elrond's father and grandparents escape the burning city and the balrog. My last memory of Ancalë is her tears as she was dragged away by her brother. Her golden hair blew about her face, making her look almost wild, but she had never been more beautiful. She wanted to remain by my side, but I wanted her to live.

"I was sent back to Middle-earth by the Valar, as you know, to protect Elrond, for they seem to think he will serve some great purpose eventually. Do not elbow me, Erestor. It was eleven hundred years later that your party of refuges arrived in Imladris. As it turns out, Ancalë never gave up hope that I would return to her, even after a millennium and a half. It was only at her father's insistence that she eventually married your father. Virë claims that you were a gift from the Valar for your mother and not a result of her bonding with your father. Is it not strange that your hair is a pale blond and your eyes hazel-colored? You carry not a trace of your father in you but all of your mother. Ancalë believed you to be a patch for the hole I left in her heart. You resemble me much more than you do your father, though of course it is not possible that you are truly my son, as your mother and I had never lain together and I had been thought dead for sixteen hundred years when you were born. However, that is why I always say you were supposed to have been mine, anyway."

"That explains much," Lindir said softly, resting his head on Glorfindel's shoulder. "Why did no one tell me this before?"

"Because your mother loved your father and it was not my place to replace his memory, though I would have liked to."

"It still does not answer my question as to why you act so distant now," Lindir sighed.

"I know, child. I am sorry. It is not my intention to do so." Lindir was not entirely convinced.

_**tbc…**_

_A/N:_ I realize that Virë seems to be a random character who suddenly appears. She is explained in the story I plan to post next, but for the sake of knowledge, she was Ancalë's best friend in Gondolin and beyond

please review.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Twelve**

"My lord, we have found them," one of the warriors exclaimed, rushing up to where Elrond and Celebrían were sitting, waiting impatiently as the horses rested and the warriors scouted.

"Where?" Elrond demanded, standing swiftly and pulling Celebrían up with him.

"They are trapped within a cave. An avalanche buried the entrance. There are frozen remains of orcs all about the area. They must have been fighting when the rockslide came. Fortunately, it buried their enemies and not them."

"Are all accounted for?" Celebrían questioned fearfully. The good news that they had located the hunting party did nothing to ease the worry that plagued her.

"Yes," the scout replied. "We were able to communicate with Glorfindel through what remained of the blockage. They have been working diligently to free themselves. With our help, they should be free within a few hours."

"And my sons?"

"I do not know, my lord. Lord Glorfindel said nothing. I assume that is good news?"

"I hope so," Elrond replied. "Lead me there." The scout nodded and started back to where he had come from, whistling secret codes into the air, calling back the other scouts with the good news that their target had been found.

Within minutes they stood among the dead orcs, half buried beneath the white snow. Celebrían looked somewhat pale and clutched Elrond's arm tightly. The half-elf lord of Imladris ordered his warriors to assist in removing the rubble so the trapped hunters could escape the cave. He and Celebrían went to help as well. Soon, but not soon enough for a mother's raged nerves, a small hole was created and the trapped hunters saw daylight for the first time in too many hours.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond shouted into the small opening, continuing to pull rocks away and widening the opening.

"I see you!" came the excited reply.

"What of my sons?"

"See for yourself," Glorfindel answered. He pulled away from the hole slightly and motioned towards Erestor. Erestor exhaled with great relief. Their salvation had finally arrived and they would be free quickly.

"Elladan, your father is here," Erestor whispered, pulling the older twin away from his brother. Elrohir slept and Erestor wanted him to remain sleeping, lest the excitement cause his weak fever to increase again. Elrond would be able to tend to him in due time.

"Where?" Elladan questioned, looking somewhat disoriented.

"At the entrance to the cave," Erestor grinned at him. "Go to Glorfindel!" He gave the young half-elf a slight push in the right direction and Elladan nearly sprinted to Glorfindel's side. Erestor followed after him at a more sedate pace.

"_Ada_!" he shouted at the hole from which sunlight poured into the dark cave.

"Elladan!" Elrond exclaimed, reaching into the hole. Elladan grabbed his hand and promptly burst into tears of relief and joy.

"You have finally come, _Ada_," he cried.

"Of course I have come," Elrond replied.

"Move," Celebrían insisted. "I shall see my son as well." Elrond moved over slightly for her, but Elladan would not release his hand.

"Nana?"

"I am here, _hina_," she answered.

"If you would move from the hole, I am sure we could enlarge it enough that we could climb out," Glorfindel spoke up. Grudgingly, Elladan released his father's hand and took a step backwards. Erestor wrapped his arms around him and Elladan leaned back into his embrace, watching impatiently as the elves and men started to work together from both sides to make the hole larger.

"Where is Elrohir?" Elrond questioned.

"He sleeps," Erestor replied. "He is not well."

"Is he injured?"

"Nay. He suffers from an unnatural fever."

"It is not unnatural, my lord," Adkar corrected. "He has a bad cold."

"He is very hot, _Ada_," Elladan said tearfully.

"I will help him soon, Elly. Be strong," Elrond replied.

An hour passed before the hole was wide enough for Adkar, the bulkiest of the trapped hunters, to fit through. He came out first, testing the sturdiness of the rock. When all were convinced that the wall would not collapse again, Glorfindel lifted Elladan up, helping him out of the cave and into his father's arms. Elrond hugged him tightly and Elladan returned the embrace, wrapping his arms around his father's neck. Celebrían embraced them both, tears streaming down her own face as she regarded her rumpled and dirty eldest son.

Elrond released Elladan too soon for his son's liking, but there were more beings within the cave to be helped out. Celebrían pulled Elladan off to the side where she resumed holding him close, as if he wasn't fully grown. He didn't mind at all.

"We will give you Elrohir now," Glorfindel told Elrond. They struggled getting the weak elf through the small opening, but eventually Elrond was able to pull Elrohir out. He carried his youngest over the rest of his family.

"Cele, would you fetch my medicine bag?" Elrond asked his wife as he dampened the corner of his cloak with the snow and used it to wipe some of the dirt from Elrohir's hot face. She did as he requested, returning quickly. Elrond opened the pouch and removed a strange combination of leaves, which he balled into little clumps of snow and gently fed to his youngest.

"Yuck," Elrohir complained faintly. He was not quite aware of his surroundings so he did not yet realize it was his father who tended to him.

"It is good for you," Elrond replied, pressing the palm of one hand to Elrohir's forehead and using the other hand to clasp one of Elrohir's. He closed his eyes, concentrating intently on pouring his healing power into his son. After a minute he relaxed and opened his eyes. "He will be fine," Elrond informed his small family. Elrohir had drifted off to sleep again, his body exhausted from fighting the illness.

"I am so glad you're here, _Ada_," Elladan sniffled.

"I will always be there when you need me," Elrond promised, brushing matted hair from his son's dirt-streaked face.

"Well?" questioned Erestor, dropping down beside them, no cleaner than either twin.

"He will be fine," Elrond assured him with a teasing smile. "It is just a cold."

"Just a cold, says you!" Erestor exclaimed, scooping up a handful of snow. "Do you realize how worried I have been?" He smashed the snow into Elrond's face. "I have sat with your ailing son for three days, fearing for his very life, and it is just a cold! A plague on worrisome half-elves!" Elrond only laughed, inciting Erestor to more anger, and the older elf proceeded to pelt him with wet snowballs, much to the amusement of Celebrían and the shock of Elladan.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Translations:  
_hina_ (Quenya) – "child"  
_Ada_ (Sindarin) – "dad or daddy"

Thank you: (for Chapters 10 and 11)  
**Seeing-spots** – Thank you x 2. You are a good guesser; I wasn't sure if anyone would come to that conclusion before I posted this chapter. :)

**Andromedia** – I'm happy you liked the little history on Glorfindel. I think back-stories really help to round a character out.

**Anorwen** – Thank for the wonderful compliments and I'm glad you were willing to "come out of the shadows" to review. Elrohir is my favorite too, so I have to make sure to give Elladan enough screen time.

**Arian** – Here is an update… unfortunately, Glorfindel doesn't get around to explaining the Last Alliance until Chapters 16 and 17.

**Nimrodel Lorellin** – Here is some more, lol. (Actually, since your review was for Chapter 10, you've actually received two more chapters. :) )


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous at the end of the chapter.

A/N: I decided to post Chapter 14 at the same time, seeing as how 13 isn't that eventful.

**Chapter Thirteen**

Elrohir awoke a few hours later, feeling much better than he had in days, but still weak and slightly dizzy. It took him a moment to realize that the sensation of moving was due to his being on the back of a horse. He recognized the black mane of the warhorse and the embroidered riding gloves the elf that sat behind him. A contented smile crossed his face and his last thought before falling back into a peaceful and healing sleep was that his father had come for him, like Elrohir had always known he would.

* * *

They arrived in Imladris four days later, their journey slowed by the added burden on the horses by the extra travelers and supplies. Still, they made good time, completing a journey of two weeks by foot in a quarter of the time. Many of the elves in residence hurried out to greet the travelers, relieved to see that all had returned safely.

Lindir hurried quickly from the courtyard to his room, unable to wait much longer for a warm bath. He also wanted to avoid the overly cheerful elves when his mood was so sour. Once again, Glorfindel had grown distant during their trip home, scouting ahead with his warriors and conferring with Lord Elrond and Adkar, leaving Lindir with only the Peredhil family and Erestor for company. Any time Lindir had approached him, Glorfindel brushed him off, claiming to have something to do or simply being too tired to speak with him. Lindir resigned himself to the belief that nothing had changed during the trip. Glorfindel was still distancing himself from Lindir.

He had just settled into the steaming bath with his favorite soaps when he heard the door to his bedchamber open and close gently. He sunk down in the tub, hoping whomever it was would think him elsewhere and not bother him.

"Lindir?" he heard Erestor call. He shifted down until only his eyes were above the level of the water, waiting impatiently for the advisor to leave. "Lindir?" Erestor repeated. "I know you are in here."

"Yes?" He replied, sitting up in the tub with an annoyed sigh. He could not just ignore his master, as much as he wished to. The sound of Lindir's voice drew Erestor into the small bathing room.

"Menelluin has prepared a feast for Elrond's return and it will be served in an hour," Erestor informed him.

"I am not hungry," Lindir replied.

"Then I suggest you find your appetite," Erestor warned. "I will see you there." He parted quickly, most likely to ready himself for the impromptu meal. Lindir scowled and wished that for one day he could find the courage to stand up to another elf and demand that his own needs be met. He knew that if he didn't attend the meal, Erestor would be cross with him, and if he did attend but did not eat, the head cook, Menelluin, would be insulted. Menelluin was not an elf one wanted to cross.

He climbed out of the tub, dried quickly and donned his dressing robe, noting absently as he always did that it bore the seal of Gondolin. Almost everything he owned was a gift from Glorfindel.

He dragged his brush harshly through his hair, not caring if he pulled out most of the wet blond strands in the process. Once it was dry he pulled it back into a few small braids, which would keep the hair out of his face during the meal. He dressed in his simplest formal robes, which were also his most comfortable, slid on a pair of soft house slippers and then decided he was ready enough. He planned on returning directly to his room after the meal.

"Find your appetite, Lindir," he ordered himself in a sarcastic and degrading voice. With one final glare at his reflection, Lindir turned and stormed out of the room.

At the dinner table, Lindir noted with a sense of cool indignation that Elladan sat alone, his twin not in attendance. Of course, Elrohir would not be forced to attend, even though he had been looking much better when they arrived a few hours earlier. Lindir shook his head to clear the envious thoughts. He should not expect the younger twin to attend dinner and Lindir most definitely had not suffered as greatly as Elrohir during their trip. He was simply upset at his lot in life and was taking it out on innocent elves. Even Erestor didn't deserve his spite.

Elrond sat at the head of the first table with Celebrían to his right and Elladan to his left. Next to Elladan was Erestor, where Elrohir normally would sit, and next to Celebrían was Glorfindel. Lindir sat down in the empty seat next to Erestor, never even glancing at Glorfindel. Soon, the humans arrived and Adkar and Ramses filled in the last two seats at the table.

Talk consisted mainly of Elladan telling his parents exaggerated stories of their trip and Elrond filling Erestor and Glorfindel in on the state of Imladris. Lindir spent most of the meal in silence, picking sadly at his food and eating as much as his stomach could bear. Erestor took pity on him eventually and scooped half of the remaining food onto his own plate, making it look as though Lindir had eaten more than he really had. Lindir gave him a grateful smile.

"Lindir, darling," Celebrían addressed the younger blond during dessert, "If you are not too tired this evening perhaps you would join us in the Hall of Fire and play your harp? I think it would be soothing after the ordeal you all endured."

"Of course, my Lady," Lindir agreed, surprisingly not dreading the event as much as he thought he would have. Playing his music was usually a great balm to his aching spirit. He glanced over at Glorfindel, surprised to find the ancient warriors piercing blue eyes upon him. He looked away quickly to stare at his plate instead. He didn't notice Glorfindel frown sadly or Elrond exchange a questioning look with Erestor.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:

**Seeing-spots** – I think Elrond deserved the snow too… eventually I'll write a back-story, and you'll see Elrond _really_ deserved the snow.

**Arian** – I'm glad you liked the scene with Elrond and Erestor… eventually I'm going to write a piece concerning Elrond, Erestor, and Glorfindel while they still live with Gil-Galad. I think all three of them would have had amusing relationships with each other.

**Nimrodel Lorellin** – Lol, thank you for your compliments. Yes, the twins are relieved!

**Lilandra** – All is well for the twins at the moment, but they weren't the only ones with a problem. ;)

**Ellfine** – Thank you very much! I'm encouraged that you're enjoying the story so much.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Fourteen **

Elrond's study was quiet as the three elves within its walls worked diligently to finish the backlog of reports that had accumulated during their brief adventure. Lindir found it hard to focus, as he kept replaying the story Glorfindel had finally told him over and over in his head. Though the history of his mother and the legendary warrior had explained many things, it did little to ease Lindir's desire to sail into the West. Sure, at one point Glorfindel may have looked upon him as a son, but he did so no longer, and without the Captain's love, Lindir felt nothing else holding him in Imladris. He would miss the company of Erestor, Elrond, and the Peredhil family, but not as much as he wanted peace in his life.

Glorfindel still had not told him what happened during the battle of the Last Alliance and that upset Lindir. He had always told the older elf everything. He was hurt that obviously Glorfindel did not trust him equally. After all, it had taken him almost two thousand years to admit to his love affair with Lindir's mother.

There was a knock on the door and Elrond bade whomever it was to enter. The door cracked open and one of the twins entered. It took Lindir a moment to tell which, but eventually he realized it was Elrohir, probably checking in with his father as he had been instructed.

He watched the way Elrond scrutinized his youngest for any signs of lingering illness and then enfolded the youth into a warm hug. Lindir could not make out the whispered words even if he wanted to eavesdrop, but he could easily read the love the two shared in their body language. He sighed. That was how a so-called father should love his child. He should not ignore the younger elf and then pretend to have false concerns for him.

He would sail, leaving as early as tonight.

He made his decision, and surprisingly, he felt lighter of heart after that. It must be what he truly wanted. He would head to the Gray Havens where he was sure Cirdan would help him find a ship sailing Westward. Once in Valinor, he would be reunited with Virë and possibly even his mother if she had been released yet from the Halls of Mandos.

Elrohir parted eventually, probably to go find his twin brother and get into more mischief. Lindir gathered his courage to confront the half-elf ruler. He stood, being careful not to upset his bottle of ink. "Lord Elrond?"

"Yes, _pen-neth_?"

"I wanted to thank you for all you have given me and done for me since I arrived so many centuries ago," Lindir spoke quickly, wanting to get out everything he wanted to say as rapidly as possible.

"You are very welcome," Elrond replied, raising his eyebrows slightly in confusion. "Is all well?"

"I am traveling to the home of Cirdan shortly," Lindir informed him. Both elves noticed Erestor jump slightly, but neither paid him any attention.

"I see," Elrond said slowly. "Exactly when?"

"Tonight, if I am ready."

"How long do you presume to be gone?" Elrond feared he already knew the answer.

"I will not return," Lindir said confidently, but inside he started to waver. Elrond did not look pleased with his decision at all.

"You are sure this is what you want?" Erestor questioned. Everything in the advisor's tone and posture screamed that Lindir should reconsider, but the younger elf was determined not to be swayed.

"Yes."

"Have you spoken to Glorfindel already?" Elrond asked. Erestor was glad the half-elf was so perceptive. He was sure Elrond had already figured out every minute detail in just those few minutes. He also knew that Elrond would fight to have Lindir stay with them. Even if the younger elf did not understand Glorfindel's reasons for acting as he did, Elrond did, and he would not let the minstrel break the balrog-slayer's heart.

"No, and I would prefer you did not tell him I am leaving." It saddened Elrond to realize Lindir's sentiments did not surprise him at all, but he knew if Lindir managed sneak out of the hidden valley without alerting anyone, Glorfindel would be absolutely crushed. He would have to be very sneaky to solve this problem without dishonoring anyone involved.

"I will honor your wishes," Elrond said gracefully, darting a look towards Erestor who read his lord's intent clearly. "I am sad to see you leave, Lindir. You have been a joy to have in Imladris."

"Thank you, my lord. If you would excuse me, I would like to begin preparing for the journey."

"Of course. I will alert the kitchen staff to prepare food for your journey. I also expect you to personally inform me of your departure time."

"Yes, my lord," Lindir nodded. He could say good-bye to Elrond. The half-elf seemed surprisingly supportive of his decision, even though earlier he was clearly upset. Lindir was once again grateful for the wisdom of the half-elf. Elrond knew each had to make his own decisions, whether good or bad. He turned towards the Chief Advisor. "Thank you as well, Erestor."

"You are welcome," Erestor said tersely. "Thank you for your assistance all these years." Lindir nodded and then quickly exited the room, heading towards his own chambers.

Once the door closed behind him, Elrond turned to Erestor and they each immediately knew what the other was thinking. "He will be at the training fields," Elrond said urgently and Erestor nodded succinctly. The Chief Advisor stood and hurried from the study, his long regal robes trailing behind him.

Elrond sighed and looked down painfully at the paper before him. Lindir had asked _Elrond_ not to tell Glorfindel. He didn't say anything about Erestor.

* * *

"Glorfindel!" Erestor shouted as he reached the small field where the Elda was working with some his new recruits.

"Lord Erestor?" one of the young soldiers exclaimed upon seeing him. They rarely saw the stoic elf outside of the main building, so it quite surprising to see him there, looking as though he had run all the way from the sprawling main house.

"Fetch me Glorfindel immediately," Erestor told the young soldier.

"He is occupied currently, my lord, but he should be finished shortly." The younger elf pointed towards where Glorfindel was sparing with a dark haired warrior.

"I said _immediately_," Erestor snapped. The elf jumped slightly at the tone and then turned to run towards his leader and fellow recruit. While most of the time Erestor disliked the fear the other inhabitants of Imladris had for him, sometimes it was quite beneficial to him. Within in minutes Glorfindel was walking towards him, looking somewhat annoyed at being interrupted.

"What is it, Erestor?"

"Lindir has just informed Elrond that he is traveling to the Grey Havens, _permanently_."

"What?" Glorfindel exclaimed, not even caring that his outburst gained him curious looks from his warriors. "When does he think he's leaving?" Erestor smirked internally at Glorfindel's implication that Lindir would _not_ be leaving, if he had any say in the matter.

"This very night. He is packing as we speak."

"Why did he not speak to me of this?" Glorfindel demanded. His heart twisted in his chest and he glanced towards the house warily, as if he would see Lindir already leaving its beautiful halls.

"He asked Elrond not to inform you of his decision. He would sneak away in the middle of the night. Fortunately, I am not Elrond."

"Thank the Valar for that," Glorfindel replied, understanding that his friends were trying to help him keep the younger elf in Imladris. "I must go to him immediately and stop this madness." Erestor nodded and stepped out of his way so Glorfindel could hurry up to the rooms Lindir had been gifted so many years ago.

Erestor turned to find many curious and bewildered eyes upon him. He frowned. "Séntil," he said, identifying the most senior elf in the group. "You will finish today's training. Continue as you were doing before Glorfindel left."

"My lord," one of the warriors asked cautiously. "Is all right with Glorfindel?"

"We shall see," Erestor replied and offered the younger elf a soft smile. With that, he turned and headed back towards Elrond's study, this time at a more sedate pace. He was confident that Glorfindel would convince Lindir to stay. He was quite persuasive when he wanted to be.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Translation:

_pen-neth_ (Sindarin) – "young one"


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N_: _Deception and Heartbreak_ (a prequel) is done! I will post the first chapter of that when I post the last chapter (Chapter 18) of this story.

**Chapter Fifteen**

Lindir's heart stopped beating momentarily after the door to his bedroom slammed open, nearly coming apart from its hinges under the force of its opening. He looked up fearfully to see the famed balrog-slayer standing menacingly in his doorway, clearly angry. Lindir faltered and dropped the tunic he was about to shove in his small traveling bag.

"Glor-" he started weakly, but was cut off.

"What is the meaning of this?" Glorfindel demanded loudly and began to advance on the bed. Lindir was very thankful that the large bed stood between them. He had never feared Glorfindel before, but the other's anger was making him nervous. "Answer me!"

"I… I…" Lindir stuttered, backing away slightly. Glorfindel reached the bed and grabbed the half-full traveling pack and flung it across the room, its contents spilling across the floor. "Do not!" Lindir protested, moving quickly to gather the strewn clothes from the floor.

Glorfindel was towering over him within moments and Lindir felt himself being dragged to his feet by a large hand around his upper arm. "Let go of me!" Lindir demanded, but he could not twist out of the iron grip.

"You would sneak off in the middle of the night like a common thief!" Glorfindel accused him darkly, tightening his grip slightly on Lindir's arm.

"It is not of your concern. Who told you?" Lindir seethed.

"It is of no matter," Glorfindel growled. "I am disgusted by your behavior."

"I do not care! Unhand me!" Lindir shouted. He raised his free arm to hit Glorfindel so he would be released, but the warrior easily caught his wrist. Lindir struggled futilely to escape.

"You ungrateful little…"

"Stop! You have no right to treat me as such!" Lindir cried. He felt tears gather in his eyes from his frustration at not being able to free himself. Glorfindel had never forcefully restrained him before and the younger elf was amazed at the warrior's strength. He kicked Glorfindel in the shin, hoping that would cause the older elf to release him, but the balrog-Slayer didn't even seem to notice. Suddenly, Glorfindel's hold changed, and instead being restrained by his wrists, Lindir found himself trapped in a crushing hug against the larger elf's muscled body. Lindir tried to twist free, his hands now free to pound on the broad back. He stopped when he noticed that Glorfindel's form was trembling. The Elda's shoulders shook with quiet sobs. Frightened, as he had never seen Glorfindel cry before, Lindir ceased his struggles and stood dumbly in the embrace, his own tears starting to fall.

"Why?" Glorfindel wept into his delicately pointed ear. "Why do you want to leave me so reticently?"

"You do not love me anymore," Lindir accused him, wrapping his arms limply around the other's still shaking shoulders. Glorfindel pulled away then, though his arms did not release Lindir. Lindir's tears fell more quickly when he saw the raw pain in the other's blue eyes and the wet, salty tracks that marred his handsome face. One battle-strengthened hand came up to cup his jaw and Lindir instinctively leaned into the touch.

"How could you say such a thing?" Glorfindel questioned, his voice no longer angry but raw with emotion. "I love you more than anything else in all of Arda." He placed chaste kisses on the younger elf's cheeks and forehead, hating the salty taste of tears. He never wanted to see Lindir cry.

"You do not treat me as such," Lindir sniffled. Both of them began to calm slightly, although tears continued to fall silently from Lindir's hazel eyes. Glorfindel had stopped crying altogether, though his emotional anguish was far from gone. Something in him, the thing that had originally convinced him that distance from Lindir was the best way to save his heart, broke, and suddenly Glorfindel didn't care about the repercussions of being close to the minstrel.

"I am sorry," Glorfindel said softly, wiping the tears from Lindir's face. He was not ready to face what had happened in the dead valley before Mordor, but if it meant keeping the younger elf by his side, he would face it and anything else that came his way. "Come, _hina_, and I will tell you everything." Lindir nodded and allowed Glorfindel to lead him towards… his closet?

"Glorfindel?"

"Shh," the older elf shushed him. They entered the spacious closet and Glorfindel pushed aside a few of Lindir's formal robes to reveal the stone wall behind them. Curiously, he watched as Glorfindel pressed against the corner of one stone and the wall moved outward, revealing a small doorway. Glorfindel pushed aside a heavy drapery and pulled Lindir through the secret door, closing it behind them. To his surprise, Lindir found himself in the antechamber of Glorfindel's suite.

"I did not know that was there," Lindir informed him. Glorfindel smiled sheepishly at him.

"I was embarrassed to admit its presence, even though Elrond gifted me these two rooms for exactly that reason. When I could not sleep, it gave me great comfort to sneak into your room and watch your peaceful reveries," the warrior admitted.

"Oh." Glorfindel dragged him through the antechamber to the door that lead into his study and then into his bedroom. Lindir noticed that Glorfindel would not release his hand, probably in fear that Lindir would bolt as soon as he was freed. Lindir had no intention of running at the present moment. He wanted to hear Glorfindel out. It surprised him at how desperately he wanted Glorfindel to convince him to stay. He had been so sure of himself just a few minutes ago.

"Sit," Glorfindel instructed, pointing towards the bed. Lindir complied and Glorfindel finally released him to disappear into the bathroom. He emerged a few seconds later carrying a damp towel, which he handed to Lindir so the younger elf could wipe the tear tracks from his face.

Glorfindel sat on the other edge of the bed, giving Lindir his space. He tried to collect his thoughts but they were moving too quickly through his mind and he could not catch them. With a sigh he focused his attention back on the minstrel and as he gazed upon the unkempt pale hair and the wide hazel eyes, he realized that he was willing to split his heart open again for the benefit of the other. He smiled softly, recalling a fond memory of nearly two millennia ago.

"What do you think of?" Lindir asked softly.

"You," Glorfindel replied. "When you first arrived in Imladris."

"Tell me what happened in Mordor, Glorfindel," Lindir pried, scooting towards him and taking his hand.

Glorfindel took a deep breath. "It was no orc, nor troll, nor any beast of the dark lord Sauron, who wounded me so. It was another elf."

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Translation:

_hina_ (Quenya) – "child"

Thank you:

**Arian** – Fortunately, things are starting to look up for Lindir. Unfortunately, the 1st/2nd Age story will probably be a while in the coming, but I'm looking forward to giving it a try.

**Andromedia **– Is this the sort of scene you had in mind? ;)

**Seeing-spots** – Another good guess! Sadly, there's not much of Lindir-stream-of-consciousness, but next chapter will finally explain Glorfindel's problem. There's another mystery at the end of this chapter… I'd be curious to see what you think about that one. :)


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
**_Dandelion_**

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Sixteen**  
_Second Age 3341 – Mordor, The Last Alliance of Men and Elves _

"Elrond, you wretched half-elf, if you do not as I say I will have no choice but to restrain you by force," Glorfindel shouted, towering over the sprawled form of the Lord of Imladris, whom he had just knocked down with a sweeping kick to the ankles.

"You do not command me! Only Gil-Galad has that right," Elrond scowled.

"The High King gave me that right three thousand years ago, or have you forgotten?" Glorfindel reminded him. He briefly regretted the pain that flittered across his friend's face, but he somehow had to prevent his Valar-given charge from getting himself killed.

"You misunderstood if you think you can order me around," Elrond answered, finally managing to climb to his feet, though he had to lean heavily upon a conveniently placed boulder. Was he injured? Glorfindel had not noticed anything earlier, but now the half-elf was holding his stomach as if in pain.

"I am trying to keep you alive," Glorfindel said, slightly more calmly, thinking Elrond would no longer be able to fight him off.

"I am quite capable of keeping myself alive," Elrond informed him.

"You do not look so well now, my friend," Glorfindel pointed out darkly. "You are counted among the wise, but now you are naught but a fool to want to run into battle against such odds, especially injured." Elrond seemed to sag somewhat at that and Glorfindel relaxed. He must have finally gotten through to the stubborn half-elf's head. He turned slightly to view the camp, which was preparing for battle… the battle Elrond so desperately wanted to be a part of.

"They are calculated odds," he heard from behind him and his instincts immediately alerted him to some deception. Elrond's voice sounded too strong, too confident. He turned just in time to see the dark haired elf flee towards the front lines, not an ailment visible.

"Curse you!" Glorfindel shouted after him. "Why me, Mandos? What did I ever do to you?" he demanded of the dark sky.

"You pray to Mandos?" An unknown, dark haired elf questioned him. Glorfindel turned towards the strange elf. "He is not the god I would pray to on the brink of battle."

"It is his fault I am here," Glorfindel complained. "I should be resting comfortably in his halls."

"You… you are Glorfindel of Gondolin?" the other elf exclaimed.

"Yes, I am," Glorfindel answered. "And you?"

"I am Loswan, currently of Lothlórien. My wife was from Gondolin. Perhaps you knew her?"

"What was her name?"

"Ancalë." Glorfindel's heart stopped. He had thought the name Loswan sounded familiar and the elf did bare some similar traits to those of another elf Glorfindel knew. "But, alas, she perished when our small village was attacked in 1568. My son, as well."

"Your son?"

"She called him Lindir," Loswan replied. Glorfindel felt his heart breaking as his fears were confirmed. He knew he could not hide the truth from this dark haired elf. He had to tell him that his son was still alive, even if it meant he had to lose the one thing most precious to him in all of Arda.

"Your son is not dead," Glorfindel spoke gruffly. "A group of survivors from your village reached Imladris and a young boy named Lindir was among them. He named his mother as Ancalë, and his father as… Loswan."

"He is alive?" The other elf looked stunned. "He is in Imladris then?"

"Yes," Glorfindel answered and felt like crying for the first time since he learned of Ancalë's death.

"Then I shall have to collect him," Loswan replied. "That is, if the Valar permits me to survive this war."

"We march!" a messenger shouted before Glorfindel could reply. He had no choice but to ready his sword and shield and march against the forces of Mordor. He almost hoped he did not find Elrond among the warriors.

After the battle, a victorious one, Glorfindel found himself alone in his tent cleaning his sword and armor so it would be ready for the next day. The Alliance of men and elves was winning small skirmishes left and right, but they had failed to encounter their true enemy and destroy him at that point. Today's victory had been even more significant, however, as many thought the battle to be impossible to win. Annoyingly, Elrond was not among the majority.

Once Glorfindel was satisfied with the state of his possessions, he lay back on his small cot and stared at the canvas of the tent above him. He thought about the last few centuries and the small gift of joy that had been granted to him in the form of a gangly twenty-two year old with tangled blond hair and huge hazel eyes. To think that he would lose his precious child, whom he had starting privately calling his own so long ago, at the end of the siege, should he survive, made him want to hurl himself into Mount Doom and save himself from the pain.

The flap to his tent was brushed aside and an armored figure stepped inside, walking towards Glorfindel's cot with a cocky air. "So you managed to survive," the balrog-slayer commented darkly.

"With no thanks to you," Elrond smirked, flopping down next to the low cot. He rested his chin in the palm of his hand and his elbow on Glorfindel's flat stomach, looking up at the balrog-slayer with dark eyes. "It is a shame that in my wisdom I could not see the enemy's weakness and exploit it to my advantage."

"You gloat," Glorfindel accused him.

"I do," Elrond admitted. He dropped his hand down and rested his head instead on Glorfindel's midriff, using his upper arm as a pillow. "I should remind you that I am always right."

"Why are you here and not with Gil-Galad?" Glorfindel questioned, wanting to be rid of the annoying half-elf. Glorfindel thought it was amazing that he had been able to survive living in Imladris for so long. Fortunately, Elrond was rarely this exasperating in his own land.

"I just wanted you to know I was hale, in case you cared," Elrond grinned, but it was quickly followed by a yawn.

"Why don't you go to sleep?" Glorfindel prompted.

"I shall," Elrond replied with another yawn and let his eyes flutter shut. Glorfindel scowled.

"Not on me, you nuisance." Elrond ignored him and pretended to sleep. Too heartsick to bicker, Glorfindel let him remain and resumed staring at the false ceiling.

"Glorfindel?" Elrond asked after a few minutes of silence. "What ails you?" Glorfindel internally cursed the half-elf's perceptiveness. However, instead of giving in to his desire to be stubborn and irritating as well, he told Elrond about his chance meeting with Lindir's real father.

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Thank you:  
_The general consensus seems to be that I ended Fifteen at a horrible place_. :D

**Seeing-spots** – Here you go… finally some explanation. (A bit more to come in 17)

**Anorwen** – Hopefully you didn't have to work your patience muscles too hard. The waiting has come to an end… for the most part.

**Ellfine** – You are not the only one who was righteously annoyed, but I tried to update ASAP. :) I hope you enjoy!


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter Seventeen**

"He is dead then," Lindir concluded, for no elf claiming to be his true father had ever arrived in Imladris after the Last Alliance. It surprised him that he felt no immediate remorse.

"No," Glorfindel shook his head, hating himself for having to tell Lindir this. "He is hale, in Lothlórien."

"But it has been more than one hundred and fifty years!" Lindir protested.

"One hundred and eighty seven to be exact," Glorfindel answered.

"He is not coming." Lindir pulled away from Glorfindel and the bed, walking stiffly over to the balcony of Glorfindel's suite, which overlooked the same view as his own, just next door. He looked up at the sky where the sun was beginning to set and Imladris was preparing for the night. He wished his father was parted in that moment because then Lindir could have held onto the hope that someone had once loved him and wanted his presence.

He felt Glorfindel step up behind him and hesitate, unsure of what to do, but eventually the famed balrog-slayer placed his hands upon Lindir's shoulders. "Now you know why I distanced myself from you, _mirë_. I could not bear the pain of losing one more piece of my heart to you and then having all of what I had given you crushed by the return of your true father. This afternoon, when Erestor informed me of your decision-"

"I should have known," Lindir muttered.

"Sorry?"

"Never you mind," Lindir sighed. Glorfindel frowned before continuing.

"I realized that it didn't matter if I gave up on you that day or a century ago. You had all of my heart the day I first met you," Glorfindel finished, gently turning Lindir around.

"I believe you," Lindir replied in a low voice. "Yet, I feel so alone," he whispered, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that gathered anew.

"You have never been alone, _yontimo_," Glorfindel corrected, enfolding the younger elf into a tight hug. The endearment shred the last bit of Lindir's composure and he cried rough sobs against his mentor's shoulder. They were tears of bitterness, brought on by the knowledge that his father truly had never wanted him, and tears of joy, because he finally had what he had desired since he came to Imladris. Glorfindel loved him as a son and had every intention of filling the role of his father.

"Thank you," Lindir said, once he could speak again.

"It is nothing," Glorfindel smiled, pulling away slightly to reveal his own glassy eyes. "You were supposed to have been mine, anyway." Lindir laughed at that and threw his arms around Glorfindel's neck, hugging the warrior as he had never been hugged before.

* * *

"It is very quiet in there," Elrond commented, pressing his pointed ear against the door to Glorfindel's bedchamber. Erestor stood a few feet away, arms folded over his chest as he regarded the "Lord" of Imladris. 

"I really do not think we should be spying on them," Erestor informed him.

"Shh, be silent and find me a glass," Elrond hissed, waving his Chief Advisor away. Erestor's eyes narrowed. This only confirmed his suspicions that it was entirely Elrond's fault that his sons acted as they did. He made sure to look extremely put out as he padded silently across the room to retrieve a crystal drinking glass so Elrond wouldn't suspect that he was as curious as the half-elf. He handed the requested object to Elrond, who pressed it against the wooden door in an attempt to magnify any sound from within. He could hear nothing.

"Are you quite finished?" Erestor asked, masking his disappointment with annoyance.

"Listen you," Elrond started, pointing a finger at the older elf. "I will not-" Just then the door swung open, dropping the half-elf, who had still been leaning against it with his ear pressed to the glass, to the floor. Erestor couldn't restrain the snort that escaped as he viewed Glorfindel looking down at his lord with a knowing grin.

"Why, _pen-neth_, I had mistaken you for one of your sons for a moment," Glorfindel smirked, offering a hand to Elrond to pull him up. Elrond batted the hand away and stood, looking as regal as one could after being caught spying on a friend.

"Do not refer to me as such," Elrond huffed, dusting off his formal robes and walking pointedly to a side table to set down his glass. Erestor and Glorfindel exchanged knowing looks. Neither mentioned how Erestor had been in presence of the half-elf when he was still a gangly youth, just out of his majority, and no wiser than his sons were now. "Well?" Elrond questioned, turning around and the facing the two older elves.

"See for yourself," Glorfindel grinned, stepping back into his room and therefore leaving the doorway open so his friend could enter. Elrond crossed the threshold first, and exhaled a sigh of relief at seeing the still form of Erestor's young blond assistant tucked under the covers, eyes glazed with elvish reverie. Glorfindel watched protectively as Elrond approached the bed and inspected Lindir for any signs of illness, his healing instinct guiding his motions. Content that his long-time friend wouldn't wake the sleeper, Glorfindel turned to Erestor. "I was on my way to find you so I might thank you for your intervention. It was quite convenient to find you just outside my door." Elrond, perfectly capable of overhearing the comment, glared at the Gondolin warrior, not looking the least bit chastised.

"I knew you would be able to convince him to stay," Erestor smiled.

"I want to officially adopt him," Glorfindel stated.

"He is nearly two thousand years old," Erestor reminded him, but he didn't outright deny his friend's request. He knew it would be spiritually healing for both of them. "I will speak with Elrond on the morrow, hopefully when he is feeling more his age."

"I can hear both of you, you know," Elrond scowled, walking over to them. "Need I remind you again who is _always_ right?" He pointed to himself.

"You are simply lucky," Glorfindel scowled, but he had to admit, never out loud of course, that Elrond had a knack of always being right. It was quite annoying. Of course, there was that one time in Lindon…

_**tbc…**_

please review.

Translations:  
_mire_ (Quenya) – "precious thing"  
_yontimo_ (Q) – "adopted child"  
_pen-neth_ (Sindarin) - "young one"

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – I added a little information to the setting notes, so hopefully it's more obvious that it's a flashback. Thanks for pointing that out to me. :)

**Arian** – Thank you for taking the time to review, even if you weren't sure what to say. :)

**Nimrodel** – Thank you for the wonderful compliments.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**The 'Life in Imladris' Arc** – _stories focused on the inhabitants of Rivendell._  
_**Dandelion**_

_Disclaimer_: This fictional story is completely made up for fun and no profit is made from it. Any similarities to real events or other writings is purely coincidental. The relationship between Lindir and Glorfindel is not an original idea but I took great pains to portray it in an original way.

Please leave me a review or constructive criticism. I want to be a better writer. Thank yous and translations are at the end of the chapter.

_A/N: This is the last chapter. Please check out Deception and Heartbreak, another story in the arc that precedes this one by about fourteen years._

**Chapter Eighteen**

The knock on the study door made Lindir frown. This was the first time he had been able to be alone since the night before and he was not ready yet for more company. Glorfindel had refused to be parted from him for more than a few minutes at a time and both Elrond and Erestor had spoken with him, expressing their relief that he had decided to remain and scolding him for nearly sending Glorfindel back to Mandos for a second time. He had forgiven them for spoiling his plot to escape, especially when Elrond pointed out that he was the only one sworn to secrecy and Lindir had said nothing of Erestor warning Glorfindel. It was a simple technicality.

"Come in," he called eventually, hoping it was none of the three elf lords.

"Are you busy, Lindir?"

"No, _pen-neth_," Lindir smiled at Elrond's youngest. "Please come in, but shut the door behind you." Elrohir closed the door softly and then wandered over to the desk where Lindir was working on a new song.

"May I hide with you?" Elrohir asked, sitting on the edge of the desk.

"I am not hiding," Lindir insisted, leaning back in his chair and regarding the half-elf with a faint smile. He could understand Elrohir's desire to hide. The youngster had been coddled without respite since they returned to Imladris. Now, it was obvious he was almost fully recovered. His pewter eyes sparkled and his cheeks were rosy again, instead of the frightening pallid hue they had been while trapped in the cave.

"You are avoiding Glorfindel, 'Restor, and _Ada_," Elrohir said knowingly. "As am I."

"Perhaps you are right," Lindir indulged him.

"Erestor needs an elfling of his own so he may stop trying to steal those of _Ada_ and Glorfindel," Elrohir laughed, picking up an unused quill and spinning it between his fingers. Lindir felt his heart warm at the thought that other elves already accepted him as Glorfindel's heir, though he suspected the twins always had for they didn't know any better.

"I agree," Lindir replied.

"I am glad you decided to stay, Lindir," Elrohir said, shifting the tone of the conversation to serious. "Not only because it makes Glorfindel very happy, but because you are one of the few elves here who is of an age with Elladan and I, and too many old elves makes a house stuffy."

"I am nearly four times your age, Master Elrohir," Lindir chuckled, but he understood the point the youth was trying to make. Elrohir rolled his eyes and sighed as if Lindir had just done him a great disservice, which only caused the older elf to laugh harder.

"What are you writing?" Elrohir asked, picking up a sheet of paper. "Is it the same ballad you toiled upon during our trip?"

"No, it is not," Lindir answered. "I have lost my inspiration for that sad song and now I have found a new muse for a much more light hearted ditty."

"Like the maiden song?"

"No, most certainly not like the maiden song," Lindir exclaimed, snatching the parchment from the younger elf. "You and your brother have absolutely no taste in music."

"We do too," Elrohir argued with a wide grin. "But we have our human ancestry to honor as well."

"Of course." Lindir shook his head. The door to the study burst open then and Lord Elrond entered, looking slightly concerned. His face relaxed, however, when he sighted the two elves within the dim study.

"There you are," he stated, slipping an arm around his son's shoulders and pressing a cool hand against Elrohir's forehead.

"_A-da_," Elrohir complained, pushing his hands away.

"Your mother is most concerned about your whereabouts, child," Elrond scolded, brushing dark locks of hair from Elrohir's forehead. Elrohir endured it and then turned to Lindir.

"Perhaps you should reconsider adopting a father. They can be quite bothersome at times."

"Oh, are you not funny today?" Elrond said sarcastically, pulling his youngest off the desk as Lindir laughed loudly. "Come then, let Lindir be."

"Good-bye Lindir," Elrohir said in parting. He leaned over and embraced the blond elf in a tight hug, which Lindir returned heartily. Once Elrohir pulled away, Elrond nodded a farewell to Lindir and slung his arm over his son's shoulders again. Lindir smiled to himself as he saw Elrohir's arm go around his father's waist.

* * *

Lindir stood nervously upon the outdoor dais with Lord Elrond and Glorfindel. Playing his music in the crowed Hall of Fire never bothered him, but standing up here before most of Imladris' inhabitants was nerve-wracking. All had come out to celebrate Glorfindel's official adoption of the minstrel, and though papers had already been signed that morning, this was Glorfindel's opportunity to announce to the world that he was naming Lindir as his rightful heir.

"Do not look so pensive," Glorfindel whispered, nudging him slightly. Lindir gave him a pained look, at which Glorfindel chuckled quietly. "It is not as if you have to say anything, _sinquelë_."

"I still must stand up here in front of all," Lindir pointed out, adjusting the collar of his shirt. Glorfindel caught his hand and pulled it away from the bothered fabric. Lindir was surprised when he didn't release it, but rather kept it clutched in his own strong hand, giving the young elf some much needed confidence.

Lindir looked out over the crowd and immediately spotted his close friends seated in the front row. Erestor sat on the aisle. Next to him were Elladan, Elrohir, and their mother. Celebrían gave him a warm smile when she caught his eye and Lindir felt marginally better.

Elrond cleared his throat and the gathered crowd quieted, waiting to hear their lord speak. After explaining the reason for the gathering, as if any did not already know, he turned to his long time friend and nodded. Glorfindel smiled confidently and stepped up to the front of the dais, finally dropping Lindir's hand.

"Today," he started in a clear voice. He was never nervous in front of others. "I would like to announce that I have named Lindir Loswanion as my heir. Everything that is mine is his, including my name and access to my assets as Lord of the House of the Golden Flower in Gondolin." Glorfindel paused and looked over his shoulder towards where Lindir stood stiffly. "Unfortunately, that doesn't mean much anymore." The crowd laughed and Lindir flushed. He didn't care about Glorfindel's name or wealth or anything of that matter. He just wanted the older elf's love and guidance. "And," Glorfindel continued, turning back to the seated audience, "Anyone who does not refer to him as Glorfindelion will soon find themselves confronted with the narrow side of my sword."

"Makes him sound like a flowering weed," Elladan whispered to his twin. Elrohir snickered in agreement.

Lindir looked over at the twins and though he could not hear what they were whispering about, his thoughts were on the conversation he had had not long ago with the younger brother. No, he would never regret adopting Glorfindel as his father.

_**The End **_

please review.

Translations:  
_sinquelë_ (Quenya) – "mine"  
_pen-neth_ (Sindarin) – "young one"

Thank you:  
**Seeing-spots** – I'm glad I was finally able to surprise you:) I don't know what I would do if I couldn't get online on the weekends.

**Arian** – That line made me smirk when I wrote it, too. After reading all the stories with mischievous Elladan & Elrohir, I can't imagine Elrond being serious _all_ of the time.

**Camille** – Thank you very much for your compliments. I agree, Glorfindel does make an interesting father-figure.

**Ellfine** – Yup, Glorfindel finally admitted everything, even though he took his time doing so!

**Andromedia** – The question of Lindir's father will be answered in an upcoming sequel, _Severence_.

_Note_: Thank yous for this last chapter will be posted at the end of Chapter Two of _Deception and Heartbreak_.


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